


My Attempts at Destiel Fluff

by LizLovesLit, The_Most_Obvious_Sherlockian



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Angel Blades, Angel Castiel, Angel Wings, Boys Kissing, Castiel is a Killer, Castiel's Car, Castiel/Dean Winchester Fluff, Classic Cars, Cute Castiel/Dean Winchester, Dead Dean Winchester, Dead Sam Winchester, Depressed Castiel, Destiel Fluff, Dog Castiel, Dreams and Nightmares, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, F/M, Female Castiel, Fluff, Ghost Dean, Heaven, High School Castiel/Dean Winchester, High School Student Castiel, High School Student Dean, Human Castiel, Hunter Dean, Implied Castiel/Dean Winchester, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kissing, M/M, Movie Night, One Shot, One Shot Collection, POV Castiel, POV Dean Winchester, POV Third Person, Past Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sad, Sad Fluff, Sam Walks In, Sam Winchester Ships Castiel/Dean Winchester, San Francisco, San Francisco Bay Area, Some Gabriel/Sam Winchester, Suicidal Castiel, The Impala - Freeform, Underage Kissing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-05
Updated: 2015-09-24
Packaged: 2018-04-02 23:39:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 31
Words: 27,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4078288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LizLovesLit/pseuds/LizLovesLit, https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Most_Obvious_Sherlockian/pseuds/The_Most_Obvious_Sherlockian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>My friend and I agree that it's difficult to write Destiel fluff. Sometimes, it just seems like the ship isn't made for it. It always seems to be easier to write a tiny bit of fluff and then smut, or something really sad. So, naturally, I decided to made as many fluffy pieces, of Destiel fluff as I possibly could, and try to make them as long as I could before it turned into something sad, smut, or just seemed finished. These are the results.<br/>If, for some reason, you want me to continue one of these, just post a comment saying so and I will see what I can do.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. But You Were Unhappy

Dean was lying on his back, head propped up by pillows, staring at the TV but not really watching it. He was trying to watch the news, to see if there was anything that could possibly be their kind of thing, but all he saw was destruction. He was used to death and destruction dealt by supernatural creatures, but when it was dealt by humans, it was a whole other story. These people weren't killing to eat, they weren't killing because there was a war in heaven or hell. They weren't monsters, they were just people. People killing people. Dean must have been sending his distress over the always open channel between he and Castiel, because the angel appeared in the hotel room with a worried expression on his face.

"What's up Cas?" Dean asked, sitting up and hitting a button on the controller, causing the TV to mute. 

"You were..." Cas furrowed his brow even more. "unhappy," he said as if the very idea of Dean not being happy made Cas want to cry.

Dean smiled, "Just thinkin' about world suffering, Cas, it's alright." 

"Was that-"

"No, really. Weird, huh? Me thinkin' about normal people problems."

Cas furrowed his brow again, "You think about problems that affect normal people all the time, Dean. The apocalypse would have wiped out most 'normal people.'" 

"Yes, Cas, but- oh never mind. I'm fine." 

"Oh. Alright," Cas said, rubbing his hands together awkwardly. "I could just... I should just..." he turned toward the door, but kept turning until he'd done a 360, his coat flaring out behind him. 

Dean smiled, "You can stay if you want, Cas." 

"Oh. Okay, thank you," he said, no less awkward than before. He stood where he was and did not move.

"Come here, nerd," Dean said, patting the bed beside him.

Cas smiled and sat on the edge of the bed. Thankfully, Dean saved him from any further awkwardness and pulled him down so his head was resting on Dean's stomach, his legs still bent at the knees, feet still touching the ground. They laughed a little, but ended up just staring into each other's eyes with residual smiles resting on their faces. 

"I love you," Dean whispered.

"I love you too," Cas replied, feeling Dean's stomach move as he breathed and spoke. "Where's Sam?"

"Out," Dean said simply, "and that's what matters."

Dean heard the door rattle as someone inserted the key card. He started to make himself presentable and push Cas off of him, but there simply wasn't enough time before the door opened and Sam made a sort of surprised gagging sound. Cas heard that, and the smile left over from their playful shows of affection vanished in an instant. 

"Cas?" was all Sam said. 

Dean was looking at Sam with a guilty expression. Cas had one knee on either side of him and was sitting on his lap, hands on Dean's shoulders, now also looking at Sam. His coat was flared out behind him, covering Dean's legs to the knee. 

"It's-" Cas started, "Exactly what it looks like," he finished when he failed to think of an excuse. And then he was gone, and Dean was left sitting on the bed, alone, very embarrassed, and facing a giggling Sammy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ha ha! I think I might have done it!


	2. When Dean Came Home

Dean would always be exhausted when he returned from a hunting. He would come home to the bunker, and say hi to Cas. Cas would walk up the stairs, and meet Dean halfway down. There, he would embrace his tired hunter and lead him to a chair. When Dean sat, Cas would walk to the kitchen and get them both a cold beer. As Dean sipped at his beer, Cas would clean up any wounds he had with a loving touch that everyone secretly craves. Once Dean was cleaned up, still sitting, Cas would pull off whatever jacket the spent hunter was wearing, followed by whatever unbuttoned button-down shirt was underneath it, and begin running his hands along Dean's shoulders. Dean would hang his head as Cas's fingers dug into the countless knots and tense muscles, occasionally groaning when it was a little painful. Cas would always ask if he was hurting Dean, and Dean would always say no, even if he was, because it felt so good, and when Cas was done, Dean would stand and take Cas by the shoulders, staring lovingly into his eyes in a way everyone secretly craves. 

"I don't deserve you," he would say, and Cas would shake his head.

"You deserve so much better," he would insist, and he would lead Dean to their room where the hunter would often collapse on his bed and be asleep before anything else happened. Cas would watch him sleep until sleep overtook him himself. 

That was what happened after Sam was killed by a rouge angel. That was what happened before Dean put a bullet through his brain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... it was fluffy-ish and then it was sad....


	3. Arms Around Cas in Heaven

Castiel never enjoyed visiting heaven. It always reminded him of all of the wrong he had done, of all the lives he'd ended. Especially, the heaven he used to consider his favorite. Normally, a soul would repair any damage done to it's piece of heaven, but for some reason, this one had not. The bodies had been cleared but the blood stains and marks where wings had been scorched into the ground remained.

Perhaps it was because the damage was so extensive, the crime, so terrible. Perhaps, it was because what Castiel had done should not- could not- be fixed and forgotten. Castiel wanted to forget, but he needed to remember. He needed to remember his terrible mistakes, no matter how much pain they caused him, so that he could avoid making them again in the future. Although, that never seemed to work.

Still, Castiel stood on the only patch of grass not scorched by wings. The place he had stood and spoken to the angels too afraid to emerge from where they were hiding and to the angels who would have been brave enough to go against him. He stood where he had stood when he had been a god. When he had slaughtered hundreds.

He did this often. Something always drew him here. It was like how it seems as if someone suffering from depression doesn't want to be happy although you know they do. He was drawn to the morbid place though it still bore the stench of blood. Even though it always brought him to tears, and often to his knees, he was drawn to it.

This time, as the first few tears, each containing a minuscule amount of grace, began to fall down his cheeks, he felt a body behind his. A warm, solid body, in no way dead. And he knew this body, knew it by its size and knew it by the way its arms wrapped around him from behind and its hands were clasped in front of him. Knew it by the way its head rested on his shoulder and by the rough stubble and soft lips as they brushed against his cheek with a kiss. It was Dean. 

"Don't cry," Dean said softly, his voice was somehow different. "Cas please don't cry."

Castiel turned around in Dean's arms he was facing the hunter. The two of them barely fit in that last patch of green, "I did this, you know that I did this. I massacred angels and ruined this man's heaven."

"Years ago, Cas. You've done so much good since then. Don't you think you can be forgiven? Don't you think you deserve to be forgiven?" Dean glanced over to the man to whom the heaven they were standing in belonged. He was still flying his kite, stepping over large blood stains and through wing-shaped areas of scorched grass, "I don't think that man minds too much anyway."

Cas took a shaky breath, "Even if I can be forgiven by others, how can I forgive myself? These were my friends, Dean, my brothers and sisters." 

Dean must have run out of things to say because all he did was lean down and kiss Cas softly and lovingly. "I love you more than life itself," he said as if he were trying to make sure Cas knew. As if he were trying to make sure Cas believed it.

Cas furrowed his brow, "Why are you here, Dean? What are you doing in Heaven?"

"I had to find you. I knew as soon as I got here, that was the first thing I was going to do."

"Dean what happened?" Cas was still in his arms but the comforting warmth and solidity seemed to be fading away.

"It's tough for me to stay somewhere I don't belong. Cas, I want you to make sure Sammy's alright. Then, come find me. I don't want to be alone." A tear ran down the hunters face and Dean was gone. And Cas was alone again. And this time, he did fall to his knees and weep. Dean Winchester was dead. Once again, he had failed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That wasn't even... that was just sad. You should fire me.


	4. Help Me, I'm Slipping (High School)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> That did not turn out the way I wanted it to but I guess it sort of works.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, if you have any recommendations for one of these, I'd love to take them because... just yes.

Dean always slouched in his chair. He was never sitting up straight. Especially, when he finished work before anyone else and was left with nothing to do. One day, he and Cas, lucky enough to be sitting next to each other, finished their test early. Dean was slouching even more than usual. He looked up at Cas, grinning as usual.

"I'm slipping," he whispered, trying not to laugh.

Cas placed one hand on the top of Dean's chair (Dean's head was where his lower back should have been at this point) and the other on the edge of the table they shared. "I can see that," he whispered back, smiling.

"Cas help me!" Dean whispered a little louder. "I'm gonna fall."

Just as Cas was about to speak, the bell signifying lunch and the end of class rang, a clear shrill reminder that Cas's time next to Dean was over for the day.

"Fuck!" Dean said playfully as the roar of people trying to get out of the classroom grew slowly louder.

"What?" Cas asked.

"I'm stuck!" Dean said, grin widening.

"You're what?" Cas asked, stuffing a book in his bag.

"I think the only way out is..." Cas looked up as Dean trailed off. "Down," he drew out the word as he slipped down under the table and promptly hit his head. "Care to join me?" Dean asked, rubbing his head. 

Cas smiled, "Why?" he asked.

Dean shrugged, slouching a little to keep from bumping his head again, "Unless you've got lunch plans."

Cas rolled his eyes and slid under the table. "What about you, don't you have 'lunch plans?' What about your girlfriend."

Dean snorted, "Lisa? Yeah I don't think she would be able to eat in my presence. Apparently I make her sick."

Cas furrowed his brow, "Oh," he said quietly, "I'm sorry?" he really wasn't sure how to react. Dean had been talking about Lisa nonstop yesterday but today- under the table- he didn't seem too broken up about it.

Dean shrugged and a curious expression formed on his face. It was like an idea had come over him and he had tried to put on his usual slightly flirtatious smile, but couldn't hide a little bit of smugness collected from the formation of the idea, and most overpowering of all was something that simply didn't look right on Dean; nervousness. "It's alright," he said, his voice steady, contrasting his face, "I've been thinking about someone else lately."

Cas clenched his jaw. He enjoyed being around Dean, he did, but sometimes it seemed like all he talked about was his girlfriend, which wasn't so great for Cas, who had been harboring a major crush on Dean since the moment he'd laid eyes on him. "Oh yeah?" he asked anyway, because talking to Dean was always nicer than sitting alone, even if it was about girls.

"Yeah. It's a little weird for me because it's something new."

What, was she blonde? No, Jo was blonde. Short hair? "New?"

"Yeah, it's a guy."

Cas's eyes widened and his heart rate doubled. No, that was ridiculous, there was no chance in hell- Cas was lucky someone like Dean even knew he existed. They weren't even friends, they only talked during science. It was stupid to think there was any way Dean could be thinking about him... No, if Dean had a crush on a guy it was Micheal or someone sophisticated, elegant and handsome like that. 

"Really?" Cas asked, praying to whoever would listen that his voice didn't give away his inner monologue. He tried to smooth down his hair, but was reminded of the table they were sitting under.

"Yeah," Dean said simply, smiling at Cas bumping his hand. "What the fuck are we doing down here? Want to get some lunch? I'll pay."

Cas furrowed his brow, he and Dean had never even spoken outside of class before, and now Dean was offering to buy him lunch. "With me?" he asked, then caught himself, "I've got money."

"I got it," Dean said, grabbing the edge of the table to pull himself to his feet, Cas did the same, "It's like three dollar prison food. Not exactly a five star restaurant. Plus, I want hang out with you. Unless you want to- you know, hang out with someone el-"

"No," Cas said. Realizing he spoke to quickly, he flashed a quick nervous smile and looked away.

"So this guy," Dean said, continuing to under-the-table conversation as he walked out the door. Cas jogged a couple steps to catch up with him. "I sit next to him in one of my classes, but that's the only time we ever talk."

Cas took a deep breath and licked his lips, he and Dean never spoke outside of class. Then again, now, they were. And Dean wouldn't be talking to Cas /about/ Cas right? No one actually did that- did they? "You should talk to him," Cas said. "Outside of class."

Dean stopped when they got to the end of the line. "I would but... I just don't know how he feels. About anything."

"I don't mean tell him how you feel. Just talk to him. As friends."

Dean, who had been facing the person in front of him in line, now turned to face Cas, "But I don't even know if he thinks of me as a friend or if I annoy the shit out of him!"

Cas furrowed his brow, "You think you annoy him?"

"I tend to do that," Dean shrugged. "I'm honestly a bit of a douche."

Cas shook his head. "I disagree."

Dean scoffed, "Well, no offense, Cas, but you don't really know me."

Cas clenched his jaw and turned so his back was against the wall, so he was no longer facing Dean. He had been stupid to allow himself to hope. He didn't really know Dean, and there was no way Dean Winchester would even look at him like that. Ever. 

"You're right," Cas said. "One class." His hurt was evident in his action, voice and face.

"Not that I don't want you to!" Dean said quickly, in an attempt to undo the damage. "I mean, I like you a lot and I think we should-"

"No, I get it," Cas said, turning back to Dean and gesturing for the latter to move forward and close the gap between him and the student in front of him.

When Dean caught up, he turned back around to face Cas. He wore a desperate expression, like there was something he really wanted to do, but just couldn't.

"Aw, fuck it," he said, letting out a breath he had apparently been holding in exasperation. He stood for half a second, as if making his final decision, then grabbed the collar of Cas's shirt and yanked him closer. They stood there for a second, faces a few inches apart, Cas paralyzed with fear and confusion, Dean quickly working up the courage to do what he'd wanted to do since that first day he'd talked to the boy sitting next to him in science. Then, Dean closed the gap and their lips collided in a kiss neither of them- not to mention the entire cafeteria- would ever forget.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now if only someone would do that for me...
> 
> It's funny, my plan was originally 'they're going to kiss while he's slipping' but that just wasn't going to work so I changed it to 'they're going to kiss while they're under the table' but that just didn't seem right so eventually I was just like 'fuck it they'll kiss eventually.'


	5. Well... What's It Like Down There?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me an embarrassingly long amount of time. I got stuck for like a week and at some point there was "write monologue" in brackets somewhere. Sorry folks...

Only one word was going through Cas's mind as the ball of light hurtled towards him at a speed he would have been able to stop if he had still been an angel, the rays of light radiating off of it and cutting through the pre-dawn darkness.  


"Shit."  


The impact knocked him off balance, but did not hurt. Cas was expecting to die as soon as he was hit, but nothing seemed to happen, really. The biggest difference was, when he opened his eyes which had been clamped shut in anticipation of a painful impact, the witch who had cast the spell was gone. Cas swallowed, there was no way she had cast a benign spell. He wasn't threatening enough to distract and disappear. There was something else behind this.  


So, Cas hopped in his Continental and decided to pay a visit to the two men he knew could help him, the Winchesters. He was only a few hours away from the bunker. It crossed his mind that he might call ahead and let them know he was coming, but he had already gotten one ticket for talking on the phone while driving. He didn't have the money for another one, and didn't want to waste any time by pulling over and trying to get ahold of them.  


So he drove on, and by the time he got to Lebanon, it was about nine in the morning. His head turned when he thought he was passed by a black Impala. Were they out? Perhaps he should have called ahead.  


When he got to the bunker, it was nine fifteen, and sure enough, the Impala was not in front of the door. It could have been in the garage, but every time Cas had seen the bunker, the Impala had been brooding out front in all her black shining beauty, a much more magnificent car- not to mention a more satisfying color, than Castiel's '78 Lincoln Continental Mark V, making it appear unceremonious and a little cheesy.  


Cas pulled up into the Impala's usual parking space, rolling up the sleeves of his trench coat- something he'd been doing a lot on the ride over. He had known the coat was too big, but why was it suddenly being such a pain? After stepping out of the car and noticing the coat now reached down to his knees, he took it off, also noticing how ill fitting the rest of his clothing suddenly was. Had he always stepped on the bottom of his slacks when he walked? Surely they would be frayed by now if that were the case.  


Carrying his coat, Cas reached the door, only to realize he didn't have a key, and if the Winchesters were out, there was no way the door wouldn't be locked or warded or something. He sighed, and decided to knock anyway. Maybe Dean had gone into town and left Sam behind. Besides, something weird was going on with Cas, he needed to talk to someone. What- was he shrinking?  


So he knocked, loud and hard on the bunker door, and thankfully, the door opened within forty five seconds. It was Dean, not Sam who opened the door. He was wearing his deep red button-up- rolled up to the elbows of course- over a black tee with his usual jeans and steel toe boots. His left hand was still on the door and his right was behind his back, undoubtedly on his gun, ready to cock and fire at a moment's notice.  


None of this surprised Cas, it wall all very Dean. What surprised Cas was Dean's reaction to seeing his face. Usually, Dean would smile, stuff the gun down the back of his pants, and sweep Cas up into a crushing embrace. Not this time, though. Dean's expression conveyed confusion, and only confusion. He made no attempt to disarm himself. Nothing that communicated he was happy to see Cas, nothing that said he even recognized him. Just, confusion.  


"Yeah?" he grumbled. He looked, quickly, around Cas. When his green eyes fell on his car, Castiel saw the muscles in his forearm ripple and heard the clear, familiar click of a gun being cocked. Dean took a deep breath and expertly prohibited his voice from betraying his action, "What can I do for you?"  


"I was on a hunt in-" Cas furrowed his brow at the sound of his voice. Something was different. He coughed, but continued when that didn't help. "In Lincoln, a witch. She hit me and disappeared. I thought since I was so close I might as well stop by and," he coughed again, something was really wrong, but he couldn't put his finger on what it was. "make sure everything's kosher."  


Dean furrowed his brow and let his arm fall so the ready-to-fire handgun was visible. "Who are you?" he asked, genuinely curious. "And what are you doing with Cas's car?" Dean glanced at what Cas was wearing. "And wardrobe?"  


Cas blinked, "Dean- it's me!"  


Dean scoffed, "Look, lady, I don't know how you got your hands on Cas's ugly ass car- or ugly ass coat, but he is my best friend, and if hurt or killed him in any way, I'm going to shove an angel blade so far up your ass you'll crap grace."  


Now, Cas really furrowed his brow, "Lady? Dean-"  


"I've never seen you before in my life!" Dean insisted, "Where is Cas?"  


Cas opened his mouth to speak, but didn't know what he could say to convince Dean, so closed it again. Then, he remembered, Sam and Dean had pulled pranks on him in the past. Texting him the coordinates of sex shops in Lebanon from a blocked number, pick-pocketing him and putting his car keys or phone in the wrong pocket. Could this be something like that? A joke?  


"You know I have trouble grasping this kind of humor, Dean. Please let me in, I'm beginning to worry about the spell that was cast on me. My clothes... no longer seem to fit."  


"I'm not trying to- who the hell are you?"  


"I am Castiel!" Cas exclaimed in his new, higher pitched voice. This couldn't be a trick. The confusion and agitation in Dean's voice were sincere.  


"And why the hell would I believe that?" Dean asked, his grip tightening on the handgun.  


Cas took a deep breath and decided he was to use his ability to communicate telepathically- left over from his more angelic days- to attempt to convince Dean. He closed his eyes and pictured the first thing that came to mind. Something no other living creature had witnessed. Their first night together. He pictured the event and channeled all aspects of the memory, trying desperately to direct the thoughts towards Dean. He was out of practice, and wasn't sure what- if anything- made it to Dean.  


Cas opened his eyes just in time to be splashed in the face with holy water. When he moved one of his hands to wipe the water off his face, Dean caught it and pulled out a silver knife. He dragged the blade across Cas's palm, drawing forth a weak flow of blood. Then, he looked into Cas's eyes with a worried expression.  


"Oh man," he said softly, "We better get you inside."  


"Why? What's-" Cas stopped as he caught his- or rather her- reflection in Dean's ridiculously shiny silver knife. Her breath caught and she seemed to lose her ability to stand. 

"Yes, I believe we better," she said, supporting herself on the arm Dean offered. She took a deep breath and pushed away from Dean so she was supporting herself.  


"You want to come in and... sit down?" Dean asked, a curious smile beginning to form on his face.  


"Yes," Cas said, beginning to walk inside, "Yes I think that would be best." She walked past Dean and down the stairs to the map table in the front room of the bunker. She sat down before Dean even left the door, he was clearly trying to to laugh.  


"So," he began after he closed the door, locked it, and began back down the stairs. "How did this happen again? You said a witch..."  


"Why didn't she just kill me?" Cas groaned, putting his face in his hands.  


"Hey, Cas, being a chick's not that bad," Dean said. He'd reached the bottom of the stairs now.  


"How would you know?" Cas asked.  


"Well," Dean started, "You can seduce, like, everyone. Even other chicks sometimes. I mean, look at you, you're gorgeous."  


Cas looked up to roll his eyes, then dove back into the abyss that was her hands. She really had this girl thing down.  


"I hear you can have multiple orgasms," Dean offered.  


Cas looked up, eyes wide, "What?" she demanded, obviously extremely uncomfortable.  


"They're longer too," Dean nodded, not getting the message Cas was sending.  


"Dean!"  


"Oh come on, you're really not comfortable talking about this with me? Even after... all that business last week?"  


Cas opened her mouth to protest, but couldn't hide the smile, and ended up with a laugh.  


"What about the week before that?" Dean continued.  


Cas bit her lip and giggled.  


"Yeah, that's what I thought," Dean said, grinning. He sat in the chair directly in front of her. "You know I'm gonna ask this, but... what's it like?" he asked. "I mean, it's gotta be different."  


Cas leaned forward and placed her newly feminine hand on Dean's knee. Dean leaned forward as well, though Cas didn't think he realized it. "Why don't you ask me that after the orgasms," Cas whispered.  


"See," Dean said, leaning back again, "You can even seduce me."  


"Well," Cas said, as she stood. "That was never so hard," she lowered herself onto Dean's lap, one leg on either side.  


Dean licked his lips and took a sharp breath, "Yeah," he whispered, failing to close his mouth afterwards.  


Cas looked away from Dean, down and to the right. A strand of hair, a few inches longer than it had been last time Cas had looked in the mirror, fell into her face. She brushed it aside lightly and looked up again as she spoke. "Do you really think I'm beautiful?" she asked softly.  


Dean swallowed and nodded. "You're the most beautiful woman I've ever seen."  


"And," Cas took a deep breath in, looked away quickly again, and bit her lip as if there was something she wanted to say, but she didn't know how to say it. Finally, she released the breath. "...you think I'm more beautiful than I am as a man?" she asked, remembering Dean's praise of her old body.  


Dean opened his mouth to answer, then closed it again. All traces of a smile left his face. Cas raised her eyebrows.  


"Wow. You're a real woman," Dean said, his natural speaking voice sounding loud compared to the hushed tones before. "You've got backed into a corner here. No-win situation."  


"What?" Cas asked innocently.  


Dean's face broke into a smile, and he closed the gap between them with a quick peck. "It's a different kind of beauty, Cas. Before, your face, Jimmy Novak's face, it was familiar. You were- and still are- my best friend. Whenever I saw you, especially after you stopped bringing me nothing but bad news," Dean smiled, Cas chuckled a little. "I immediately became happy, and that is beautiful. Right now," Dean took both of Cas's hands in his own, "when I look at you, I see a woman with natural beauty. I see a woman who would never need makeup, one who would look stunning in... in a burlap bag. Cas, I see my dream girl. I see an angel," Cas licked his lips and looked away. He wasn't comfortable with being called that. "You know the best part? She's got your eyes. So, I guess when I look into your eyes- really look, everything else fades out and what I see is my best friend. My lover. I don't know what you're planning on doing about this. I don't know if you want us to try to find a way to turn you back, or if you're happy as a woman, but I will be happy either way because I don't care about your anatomy and I don't care about your face... that's a lie I care a lot about your face and it's fucking gorgeous both feminine and masculine. Point is, I love you. I would love you if you were as ugly as me-"  


"Dean-"  


"Sh! And... I am not going to answer your question because you'll be pissed with me either way," Dean let go of Cas's hands and leaned back into his chair triumphantly. "So ha! I will not accidentally insult you."  


Cas smiled and leaned forward to kiss Dean. "I love you too," she whispered. "I love you more than I've ever loved anything. I love you more than I loved God."  


"I guess you're not the new Lucifer then?" Dean asked with a slight smile.  


Cas shrugged, "Well I can't say I haven't sinned."  


The smiled disappeared, "Bible stuff is a turn off," Dean said decisively.  


Cas rolled her eyes, "You think? You're talking about my family."  


Dean shook his head, "Your old family, Cas. We're your family now. Me and Sam. Fuck the angels."  


Cas smiled. Dean was right. She felt something with the Winchesters that she'd never felt in Heaven. She felt loved.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WILL EDIT LATER JUST WANTED TO GET THIS OUT BEFORE I FORGOT


	6. Angel Blade

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did it LizLovesLit! Hope I did well!!!  
> The ending is bad, just warning you now. It's so freakin' cheesy I can't even...

As the angel blade sunk into the enemy angel's vessel, light exploded from inside it. Dean shielded his eyes, but Cas, the wielder of the blade, watched as his brother screamed and died.

"Whoa, dude! You have _got_ to teach me that trick!" Dean's eyes danced with excitement.  


The corners of Castiel's mouth twitched upward. Dean's excitement was a welcome contrast to the murder just committed. "Teach you to use my angel blade?" he asked.  


"No- well, maybe. I mean, you gotta show me how to do that badass thing where you flip it right before you stab the shit out of something!"  


Cas raised his eyebrows, "You've been hunting your entire life. You've got to know hundreds of ways to 'stab the shit' out of things. One of those must include some sort of flip."  


Dean shrugged, "What can I say? You've got technique."  


If Cas were more human, he may have blushed. Of course, he was already more human than any angel had the right to be. Castiel loved Dean. He didn't understand emotions well enough to know if he loved Dean platonically, or romantically. Either way, Cas was somehow human enough to feel love. But not human enough to blush. "You really," Cas narrowed his eyes a little, but not with suspicion, "want me to teach you?"  


"Yeah!" Dean stepped forward and took Cas's angel blade from his right hand which had been hanging at his side idly since the kill. Dean's fingers brushed over Cas's as he took the blade, which could've been nothing but intentional.  


Cas's breath caught and he looked at Dean with wide eyes. What was Dean trying to do?  


"I mean the weighting is so different," Dean said softly, looking back into Cas's brilliant wide eyes, not really listening to himself and knowing Cas wasn't really listening either, "from anything I've..." he trailed off. "You know."  


Cas nodded. He should have been on edge. He should have been watching Dean like a hawk. A human had his angel blade, the only weapon that could kill an angel- that could kill him. But somehow, he was absolutely calm. He didn't feel uneasy at all, he trusted Dean completely.  


Dean seemed to snap out of it, and took a step backwards. He began playing with the angel blade, turning it over in his hand, feeling the differences in weight and shape from anything else he'd experienced. Cas watched him in a daze. It was like watching any professional at his craft... it was memorizing. That must have been why Cas didn't stop him when he began to try to flip the blade all wrong. He was jerked out of his daze as the blade clattered to the ground, a few drops of blood flying off of it.  


"Shit!" Dean growled, watching blood rush to the wound on his forearm and spill out. The clean cut fit perfectly with the scars of countless others, the blade had somehow found it's way to the place Dean had previously cut himself with silver, proving he was human. Dean produced a bandanna from one of his pockets.  


"Let me," Cas said, grabbing Dean's wounded arm, stopping him before the fabric was tainted by blood. Cas kept a tight hold on the hunter's arm, trying to ignore the racing of his vessel's heart. He placed his free hand on top of Dean's wound. With barely a thought, Cas healed Dean and when he removed his hand, there was no scar. The angel loosened his hold on Dean's arm, but didn't let go.  


Dean glanced down at Cas's hand, then back up at Cas. "Thanks," he said softly.  


"You're welcome," Cas replied.  


Dean licked his lips, "Looks like I've got myself a guardian angel."


	7. Wings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one was fun for me. Well, I mean I cried quite a bit surprisingly enough, but I had fun.

John swept boy and baby up into his arms as he ran away from the burning house. Dean looked over his father's shoulder as the only home he'd ever known went up in flames. He clutched baby Sammy tighter. John sat Dean down in the passenger seat of the 67 Impala, a car the young boy had always been fond of, and ran to the drivers side. Dean had never sat in the passenger seat, his mother never let him. Now he was there with his little brother, and his dad was sitting in the driver's seat, starting the car and pulling away from his home.  


"Daddy?" Dean asked, his voice weak from sleep and terror.  


"What, Dean?" John asked. He slammed his foot on the gas and the Impala brought them closer and closer to the edge of town.  


"Where's Mama?"  


John eased up on the gas and pulled into the nearest turnout. He shifted the Impala into park and rested his forehead on the steering wheel. John squeezed his eyes shut, but a few tears escaped and landed on his car's beautiful black vinyl seats.  


Dean understood that his mother was still in the house. He was young, not stupid. "Shouldn't we call 911?"  


John shook with anger and loss. "911 ain't gonna do _shit_ ," he emphasized the word by slamming his fist on the dash.  


Sam, who had been silent, began to cry.  


"Shhh," Dean rocked Sam in his arms, but he too was crying. He buried his face in the blanket Sam was wrapped in and rocked his entire body. He felt something brush against his shoulder. He thought it was his father's comforting hand, but John was busy getting back on the road. Dean felt it against the other shoulder. He felt the sturdy structures slip between his back and the back of the bench seat. He looked up and saw something he couldn't yet understand. Huge black wings, way too large to fit in the car, were being wrapped around him, and in the center of two wings, was a shape that appeared blurry no matter how much Dean tried to focus, the shape was composed of nothing but bright, silver light. The little boy leaned his head against one of the wings. The feathers felt so soft against his face he closed his eyes and began to drift off. The owner of the wings slid wrapped its arms around Dean and Sam and stoked Dean's hair as the older brother fell asleep. Sam giggled and waved at the winged being. It smiled at the baby, and kissed his forehead before disappearing.  


John Winchester never noticed the winged creature in his car. The creature appeared only to who it wished to be seen by, and only light. The creature existed in a different dimension, at least until it found a vessel.  


-  


Sam was asleep in the bed across from the one Dean was lying in. Dean made sure of that before he started to cry. He stared at the amulet his little brother had given him and more tears came. That amulet should have gone to his father. Or, the poor excuse for a father that John Winchester was. John Winchester should have been there. He should have been there, in that grungy hotel room. It was Christmas day. If there was one night John should have been a father, it was that night.  


Dean dropped the amulet, letting it fall back against his chest. He ran one hand through his hair and used the other to wipe the tears off his face. He remembered his father's words.  


"The hell are you doing? Are you crying? Man up, Dean. Man up for your little brother. You can't let Sammy think men cry. Crying is for babies and pussies."  


That, of course, made Dean cry more. Just as it had when it was first spoken. He rolled onto his side and hid his face although there was no one to see it. Suddenly, he felt something familiar. Something was covering him like a blanket, but it was much heavier, and it was producing its own heat. Dean took his hands off his face as he felt an arm slide around him, pulling him into a sort of sideways hug. He looked behind him and saw the blurry, black winged creature he'd seen the night his mother died. He rolled onto his other side, sure he must be dreaming, and nuzzled into the soft warm embrace. The wings and arms both tightened a little, and soon Dean was asleep, a small smile on his tear-stained face.  


-  


Dean struck the Impala with the crowbar one last time before casting it aside. He collapsed onto the ground, using the car's back fender as a back rest. His face was in his hands, hiding his tears. He yelled nothing in particular at whatever was in front of him and hid his face again.  


"What the hell have I done?" he sobbed, ashamed of the damage he'd done to the car. He would fix it. He would fix the trunk. That was something he could do. He would make the Impala look like new again, no matter what it took. He could fix that. But that wouldn't fix Dean. Dean should have been dead and his father sold his soul and took his place in hell. How was someone supposed to deal with that?  


Suddenly, something crept around his shoulders. It was like an arm, but different. Larger, stronger, more powerful. Familiar. Dean looked up and sure enough, the blurry winged creature sat next to him, massive black wing around his shoulders in the beginnings of a comforting embrace.  


"Hey Wings," Dean whispered. His voice would have cracked if he'd spoken. Wings was the nickname Dean had developed for the creature over the years. Wings showed up when Dean was the most distressed. Wings was there in times of death, in times of loss, in times of need.  


The creature smiled and placed a glowing hand on either side of Dean's face, and leaned forward to kiss the hunter's forehead. Warmth radiated from the spot where Dean had been kissed, and he began to feel better. He closed his eyes and felt the warmth flow through his body, and when he opened his eyes, Wings was gone.  


-  


Sam was gone. Bobby's neck was broken. Cas had exploded. Dean's face was swollen, bloody, and extremely painful. The tears streaming down Dean's face mixed with the blood already dripping down, disguised. He looked behind him three times, each time expecting to see Wings. Of all the times Dean had been in pain, this had to be the most painful. Dean wanted his glowing ball of comfort. He wanted Wings. Since he was four years old, every time he'd been depressed, or in mourning, Wings had been there. Dean had lost everyone. He couldn't lose Wings too. If there was any time Dean needed his guardian angel...  


It was an eternity before Cas stood before him again, and Dean couldn't get shake the feeling that something was wrong, even after Cas fixed Bobby. Even after Sam got his soul back.  


-  


There were two doctors and three nurses trying to revive Bobby, but all Dean saw was the flatline. When he looked down at the body, all he saw was his father. When he turned to leave the room, he was met with a familiar sight. Huge black wings and a glowing blurry body made of pure light. Dean shook his head and walked right through the being.  


He walked out to his car which he leaned on. Wings appeared again.  


"So, what? Do you just choose which of my excruciating experiences to appear at?" Dean demanded.  


Wings tilted its head in confusion.  


"Or was loosing my brother to Lucifer just not painful enough for you to come help out?"  


Wings shook its head this time, and took a step towards Dean, arms outstretched.  


"No," Dean stopped it. "Not until you give me some sort of explanation. C'mon mind meld with me or somethin'. I thought you'd forgotten about me. Or died. Can you even die? What the hell are you?"  


Wings looked away and let its arms fall to its sides. Its wings, which had been outstretched, folded in closer to its glowing body, which seemed to fade a little.  


"You were there when my mom died, you were there when I was taken to hell, you were even there when my dad didn't come back to the hotel for Christmas but after I came back from hell, you were gone. No more wings. No matter how much pain I was in, you were nowhere to be seen. I lost my brother... for a year. I watched my best friend dissolve into a reservoir and you come now. The day Bobby dies. What makes this different from anything else?" Dean shouldn't have been angry. Wings came by and made everything okay, there was nothing in it for Wings. But Dean had really worried about it. Wings had been a childhood friend, and he'd disappeared.  


Wings's form flickered and Dean caught a glimpse of something a little more solid.  


"What- are you- are you jealous because of Cas or something? Because I had another guardian angel to watch over me?'  


Wings shook its head. "I'm sorry," it said, shocking Dean so much he didn't recognize the voice. Wings had never spoken. Not once in all the visits... It had always remained silent.  


"Wings?" Dean asked, still shocked.  


Wings's form faded more and seemed to become more solid, "I'm sorry for everything, Dean." This time, Dean did recognize the voice.  


"Cas?" He demanded. "Oh my God, Cas, is that you?"  


Wings's form faded more, then there was no light left and the wings disappeared and Castiel collapsed naked and shaking in Dean's arms.


	8. What Next, the MIB?

"Jesus," Dean mumbled as he got stepped out of the Impala. He could see the victim from his parking spot. It was a woman, nailed to a giant wooden cross by her hands and feet, naked except for a rag covering her breasts, and a loincloth.  


"That's not..." Cas began, "That's not correct."  


Dean rolled his eyes and ignored Cas's criticism of the religious reenactment. "Think this is our kind of thing?" he asked. "Could be a demon."  


Cas shook his head as they began walking towards the crime scene, "I don't smell any sulfur. Looks more like an angel kill. See her eyes?"  


"Oooh, how did I miss that?" Dean said, staring at the corpse.  


"Angels? Don't think angels had anything to do with this. Can I help you two?" asked a slightly plump blonde man in a Sheriff's uniform.  


"Ah, yes, I'm Special Agent Ackles," Dean said, pulling out his badge. "This is my partner Special Agent Collins. We're with the FBI.  


Dean looked over at Cas, who was still looking at the corpse. He nudged Cas and the angel hurriedly pulled out his fake FBI badge. He had been hunting with the boys for almost a year and he still forgot he needed to take out his badge. Hey, at least it wasn't upside down this time.  


"My mistake. Sheriff Thompson. Right this way, agents," Sheriff Thompson said as he lifted the yellow caution tape so Cas and Dean could walk through.  


"We know who she is?" Dean asked, walking closer to the cross.  


"Middle School teacher here in town. Name's Miranda Stellar," the Sheriff looked back at the edge of the crime scene where one of his deputies was trying to convince a man in a long black coat with wavy dark hair not to cross the line. "Excuse me," he said, checking out the commotion.  


"So what kind of a beef did Miss Stellar have with the wing-ed dicks?" Dean asked, turning to Cas.  


Cas shrugged, "I don't recognize this woman. I haven't been on Angel Radio lately, do you think I should tune in?"  


Dean shook his head, "If you tune into Angel Radio, isn't there a chance someone could track you?" Cas nodded. "It's not worth bringing all of heaven down on our asses. We'll work this like a normal case. No short cuts."  


Cas nodded again, "A wise decision."  


"Agents," began the returning Sheriff... with the dark haired man. "This is Detective Inspector Lestrade. From-"  


"New Scotland Yard," said the dark haired man, a charming British accent a lovely addition to his deep velvety voice. He had extremely prominent cheekbones and striking blue eyes. He was about an inch shorter than Dean. He wore a black suit jacket under his coat, and a purple button-up under that. His slacks matched the jacket. He must've been way too hot with that coat, especially with the scarf around his neck. It was Spring and the weather was just starting to warm up. The DI flipped open his badge, but closed it again and stuffed it in his pocket before Dean could read anything. "This is my assistant, Dr. John Watson."  


A much smaller man stepped out from behind the Detective Inspector. He wore a sour expression and a jacket with leather patches at the elbows over a white button-up with thin blue horizontal stripes and jeans.  


"Scotland Yard?" Dean scoffed, "As in, London Scotland Yard?" he was addressing the Sheriff.  


"Yep," he said with an exasperated sigh. "Anyone else coming? The Men in Black perhaps?"  


"What does Scotland Yard want with a murder in Maine?" Dean asked, addressing the Detective Inspector and his partner now.  


The DI took a small magnifying glass out of his pocket and crouched down. He began inspecting drops of blood on the ground. "Bored with London," he said simply. Then, he looked up, "It's a bit crowded for me. I prefer to work alone. Could you just... be useless somewhere else?"  


"Sorry," Watson said, "Jet-lag. Makes him grouchy." The Detective Inspector scoffed,  


Sheriff Thompson rolled his eyes and walked away. Dean just raised his eyebrows. Cas did nothing.  


"That goes for you two yankies as well. Please be elsewhere. You're distracting me."  


Dean scoffed, "Yeah, I'm not going anywhere. This is my country you cocky son of a bitch, I've got jurisdiction, you don't belong here."  


The Detective Inspector stood. "Jurisdiction, eh? _Agent Ackles_ you're right. Your Federal Bureau of Investigation _would_ have jurisdiction here but, you're not FBI... are you? I must say, I'm glad you gave up on surnames of band members but Ackles and Collins... not much better," he looked at Cas and a confused expression spread over his porcelain face, but in an instant he was back.  


"What the hell are you?" Dean demanded.  


"Then again, I wan't sent here by Scotland Yard. I'm not a Detective Inspector- I wouldn't allow them to taint my name in such a way. I'm a consulting detective, only one in the world, in fact, I invented the job. The name is Sherlock Holmes," Sherlock pulled off a glove and extended his hand, but not to Dean, to Cas. "And you are a very hard man to read. What is your name?"  


Cas furrowed his brow, stared at Sherlock's hand, and looked back up at his face, "Special Agent Collins," he said plainly. "I'm with the FBI."  


Sherlock retracted his hand and shook his head, "Your real name."  


Cas looked at Dean who was just staring at Sherlock, "Castiel."  


"My assistant, John. His identity was insignificant enough to be revealed."  


John smiled tiredly, "Pleasure," he said as he shook Dean's hand.  


"Dean Winchester," Dean said cautiously, "Assistant my ass," he mumbled afterwards.  


"Excuse me?" John demanded, tightening his grip on Dean's hand threateningly.  


Dean shook his head, "Nothing. You know, my father's name was John-"  


"We are not a couple," John insisted, thankfully, he no longer had a grip on Dean's hand. "I am not gay."  


Dean chuckled and put his hands up, "Kidding, sorry."  


"Like you two are so platonic," Sherlock interjected. "Castiel may be difficult to read, but not impossible. And you? You're an open book. Since we walked up to this crime scene, Castiel hasn't spoken to anyone but you. Could just be because he's more comfortable with you- or maybe you're better at the social aspect of impersonating federal agents, but there hasn't been more than four inches between you since John and I crossed the yellow tape. One of you moves, the other- possibly subconsciously- moves as well, keeping you nice and close. That's not something partners do... no not even friends. But Dean, you're so attached to your masculinity you refuse to allow your relationship with Castiel come to light. It's alright, Dean. Keeping your relationship secret won't make it any less gay, and I think Castiel here might enjoy a nice dinner every once in a while... in public not just a homemade dinner whenever your brother isn't around."  


Cas's eyes were as wide as they could possibly get without popping out of his head. Dean was caught between shock and severe embarrassment.  


"There is no... there is no relationship," Dean said.  


"Oh please. I just called you out and you're still going to deny-"  


"Uh... Sherlock," John said, stopping the consulting detective with a hand on his arm, "I really don't think there is a secret relationship."  


Sherlock furrowed his brow and took another look. He looked at John, "Always something," he said. "It's the trenchcoated one. Castiel. He's throwing me off," he turned back to Dean and Cas. "Suppressed feelings then. Well, I was close."  


Dean blinked, "What _are_ you?"  


The detective smirked, "I'm Sherlock Holmes."


	9. Two Year Anniversary... Sort of

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And once again LizLovesLit saves my freaking life. I swear to Lucifer I was about to lose my mind I had nothing to write and I couldn't think of anything even remotely resembling a plot. The rest will come I swear but I just promised myself I'd go to bed like an hour ago and I have work in the morning lol...

Dean looked up from his book hopefully when he thought he'd heard wings. He looked around the room, but saw nothing, so he sighed and looked back down at the book he was reading. According to Lisa it was a classic but Dean found it so boring he seemed to be hallucinating. He thought he heard them again. and this time he stood from his desk chair and turned around.  


"Okay, Cas I know you're here," he said uneasily. If it wasn't Cas... if it was some other angel Dean would be royally screwed. The closest angel blade- not including the one mystery angel would be trying to impale him with- was in the trunk of the Impala... in the garage. "If you're not then you need to be," he added quietly.  


"It's me," Cas whispered in Dean's ear, causing him to jump.  


"Jesus, Cas. You trying to give me a heart attack? Ever heard of calling ahead?"  


Cas almost smiled, "You go domestic, get yourself a family and now you've got heart problems? You really are a dad aren't you, Dean?"  


Dean scoffed, "Domestic my ass. I've got salt lining the windows... a devil's trap by the door-"  


"Domestic doesn't mean normal, Dean."  


"And then I've got you..." Dean finished, looking down at Cas and licking his lips, "You... my scandalous angel boyfriend," he leaned down and kissed Castiel slowly and precisely. This was the first time he'd seen him in almost a month. His visits were becoming fewer and farther between. "I love you," Dean whispered when he was through. 

"Where've you been?"  


Cas looked away, "I've been busy. Heaven-"  


"Is in complete chaos. Rafael is trying to restart the apocalypse and you and your buddies are trying to keep that from happening," Dean recited. "You've mentioned that."  


Cas sighed. "I'm sorry, Dean. I wanted to come back sooner but everything is just getting worse and worse. We could really use someone like you-"  


"No. Absolutely not," Dean said decisively, "I've told you before, I'm not going back to that. Since Sam I just... I mean I've got Ben and Lisa and a job and an actual house... I can't throw that away. Like I told you, if the apocalypse take two goes through I'll get back out there but until then..." Dean looked at the door to his office-like area.  


"I know," Cas said. "I had to try. I've prepared something for us tonight, do you think you can spare an hour or two?"  


"Prepared something? What's the occasion?"  


Cas almost looked hurt, "You don't... No of course you don't remember, why would you?"  


"Shit," Dean said, "It's not your birthday is it?"  


Cas smiled quickly and shook his head. "We met two years ago today."  


"Oh my God," Dean said, "Oh my God how did I not know that? Cas I am so sorry!"  


Cas shook his head again, "It's okay. Take my hand."  


"Oh, are we holding hands? You really are gonna make tonight special."  


Cas rolled his eyes and touched two fingers to Dean's forehead. Dean blinked and when he opened his eyes again he was no longer in his office.  


"I wanted to do that a little more ceremoniously," Cas admitted, "But you left me no choice."  


"I don't know if I went so far as to leave you no choice," Dean said, "Where are we?"  


Cas tilted his head to the side, "Don't tell me you don't remember this either." He looked up  


Dean followed Cas's gaze to the ceiling of what appeared to be an abandoned barn.  


"Oh my God," he mumbled when he realized what was on the walls and ceiling. Every banishing, trapping or summoning symbol Dean had seen in his life was artfully painted on the arched walls of the barn. Every banishing, trapping or summoning symbol he'd seen, that is, that had nothing to do with angels. He knew exactly where he was. "I can't believe I didn't recognize the place."  


"I replaced the lights I blew out when I first arrived. I didn't have to blow them out, you know," Cas smiled a little. "I was trying to make a good first impression. Or a powerful one at least."  


Dean chuckled, "That you did," he looked around once more, then looked back at Cas. "So I've known you two years now, huh?"  


Cas nodded. Dean stepped closer to him, they had separated a little.  


"And how long have I been able to do this?" Dean pulled Cas up into another kiss, this one more passionate. He knew that he probably wouldn't be seeing Cas again after that night for a while. Probably longer than a month, and he wanted to enjoy every single second he got.  


Cas kept his eyes closed a few seconds after Dean released his face. "Well," Cas started softly. "Technically you've always been capable of doing that but... I do wish you'd started a bit sooner than you did."  


"Hey!" Dean complained, "Just be glad I did start or you'd be dealing with Heaven alone-"  


"I _am_ dealing with Heaven alone."  


"Yeah but you've got a fuckbudy. You would be dealing with Heaven... unsatisfied while I made my life with Ben and Lisa."  


Cas laughed. He actually laughed. For the first time in two years... Castiel laughed. "Unsatisfied," he repeated.  


Dean smiled. He'd heard Cas scoff, moan, scream- both in pain and pleasure- gasp, and groan but never laugh. "You must be having a tough time up there because that really was not that funny."  


"I am," Cas said. "I'm so glad to see you, though."  


"I'm glad to see you too, Cas. We gonna stay in this dusty old place or did you get up a hotel room that charges by the hour? I'll be the hooker if you're uncomfortable with people thinking you're a lady of the night."  


Cas laughed _again,_ "No, I thought we'd stay here. It's an old barn, we could be like a couple of... teenagers."  


Dean grinned. "Let's go outside."  


"What?"  


"Well if I remember correctly, this barn is in the middle of an abandoned field in South Dakota. It should be about midnight and it's a really nice night. Let's go outside and look at the stars. We could lie on your trench coat and you could curl up in my arms like you always want to do and if we get cold we can just take off all our clothes, use them as blankets and cuddle naked."  


Cas furrowed his brow, "So no sex?"  


Dean shook his head, "My poor innocent angel," he said, throwing an arm around Cas's shoulders. He started walking them towards the door. "There will be sex," he kissed Cas's cheek. "I promise."


	10. Burnt Beyond Recognition

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I swear I should just make LizLovesLit a co-author.

Dean ran into the kitchen when he heard something he didn't often hear unless it was from his own mouth.  


"Shit! Fuck! Dammit!" in quick procession.  


"Cas!" Dean panted when he got to the door. The angel was standing with his back to the door. His trench and jacket were discarded on the counter top. "Everything alright?"  


Cas turned around, eyes wide, a quickly healing gash on his forehead. " _Shit_!" he repeated. "Crap, Dean go away."  


Dean furrowed his brow, "What? I'm not gonna leave you here to kill yourself Wolverine. What the hell are you doing anyway?"  


"'M cooking," Cas mumbled, stepping aside to reveal two pots of water boiling over, and a saucepan with something burnt beyond recognition. "I don't see where the X-men reference fits in."  


Dean shook his head and laughed, "No you're not. You're destroying perfectly good food. And, your forehead there, healing up... never mind."  


Cas took a deep breath and looked away, "I was... going to make you dinner."  


Dean laughed again and walked up to Cas. He put a hand on either of Cas's shoulders and looked at the angel with a kind smile. He shook his head a little. "Why? Why in all of Heaven, Hell, Purgatory and Earth are you trying to make me dinner?"  


Cas sighed, "Because you do it all the time for me even though I don't even have to eat and it's..."  


Dean chucked. "Listen, Cas. You can't just wake up one day and _decide_ to cook. It's like painting or anime porn... it's an art form."  


"Comparing food to porn," Cas shook his head. "It just doesn't seem sanitary."  


Dean laughed. "Okay, Rachael Rey. You want to cook, let's cook."  


"Really?"  


"Yeah. I'll help you. You're gonna have to clean up what you've got going on here, though and start from scratch. Looks like a fucking bomb went off."  


Cas made no visible attempt to clean anything, but when Dean's focus shifted to the stove-top behind Cas, it was clear and- thankfully- off.  


"Now, what are you making?"  


"I'm an Angel of the Lord, Dean, I don't really think I need you to walk me through-"  


"Cas!"  


"Spaghetti and meatballs."  


"Alright. Good. Nice and simple. Please tell me you bought meatballs you can just warm up in a saucepan."  


"I bought meat and... flavors."  


"Spices," Dean corrected. "You think you could magic up a package of precooked meatballs? I don't think you're ready for... actual chopping and mixing and- how did you even get that cut on your forehead there isn't a knife in sight?"  


"I- just-" Cas sighed and produced a package of precooked meatballs.  


"Great. Now you just need to get a pot of water boiling for the pasta. Put those down," Dean took the package from Cas and set it on the counter.  


Cas nodded and turned around. He located a pot, but as he was filling it with water in the sink, Dean walked up behind him and slipped his arms in between Cas's arms and his sides, wrapping all the way around the angel just above his vessel's belly button.  


"What are you doing?" Cas grunted.  


"Mmm." Dean was kissing Cas's neck now. "You just looked so good in that shirt and I was getting such a good look at that ass..." one of Dean's hands found itself lightly slapping Cas's ass, causing Cas to jump and almost dump the water out of his pot.  


"Dean I'm-" he struggled to get free, "-always wearing this shirt and I've always had this ass and I'm-" he was finally released. "-trying to make you dinner." He walked back to the stove.  


Dean bit his lip and leaned against the island in the middle of the kitchen, "But your shirt is all untucked now and your sleeves are rolled up and... I find myself losing interest in food."  


Cas turned on the burner underneath his pot. Apparently, that wasn't all he was turning on. "Dean, I really want to do this for you."  


Dean sighed. "But I really want to do things _to_ you that probably should not be done in a kitchen. I mean if Sam didn't live here I'd bend you over that counter right now but-"  


"Dean!"  


Dean laughed. "C'mon Cas... I'll teach you to cook later," he whined.  


"No you won't. You'll do the same thing you're doing now and you'll be stuck making dinner for a celestial being who doesn't eat and never returns the favor for the rest of your life."  


Dean snorted. "Like I care. Hell, I'll cook for you every night if it keeps you here."  


Cas turned around. "Keeps me here?"  


"Yeah. I mean something else is bound to come up and beg for your attention," Dean chuckled nervously, "You the Angel of the Lord... You'll have to go save Heaven or something and I won't see you for another three months or-"  


"Dean, Dean," Cas walked up to Dean and placed his hands over Dean's. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm home."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *yawns*  
> I'm goina bed...


	11. Coming Back for You (Nerac, France)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas is a ballet dancer in Nerac, France, where a 16-year-old Dean happens to find himself working a haunted theater that belongs to a friend of John's. Naturally, he falls for Cas, I mean the guy is basically an angel... but he can't stay in France forever.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... My adorkable friend in France (SHE'S COMING HOME IN LIKE A DAY I'M SO EXCITED TO SEE HER) told me about this boy she totally has a crush on over there. Well, apparently they did this super cute thing at her going away party and I told her it sounded like a fluffy fic and then I was like "OH MY GOD INSPIRATION" and so here we are.  
> I swear, I was working on those ideas my gorgeous readers gave me but... I'm me so I got distracted. I've got a few sentences of everything done.

Castiel was sitting on the edge of the stage, facing where an audience would be. He looked a little hunched over, sad already, as if he knew Dean were coming to give him the bad news. Dean took a deep breath, and picked up Cas's trench coat on his way to the dancer. When he reached Cas, he flung the coat around his shoulders, and sat so close their arms touched.  


"Cas," he started, but his voice wavered.  


Cas turned his head to look at Dean. Worry flooded over his face when he saw that Dean was about to cry. "What is it?" he asked, his charming French accent another kick in the feels for Dean.  


"I-" Dean took a shaky breath and covered his mouth, "God, I'm sixteen, I shouldn't have to deal with this."  


"Dean, what is going on?" Cas placed his hand on Dean's thigh. The touch was comforting at first.  


"Cas, I'm leaving," he finally said. "Dad finished up his business in Nerac and we're going back to the States."  


"No," Cas breathed. He looked straight ahead, at the front row of seats. "No!"  


Dean nodded. "We knew this was coming," he said, his voice full of a sudden strength. "We knew I was going to have to go back."  


"No, no, no," Cas repeated. He looked back at Dean and tears cascaded down his face which he soon hid in his hands.  


Dean put his arm around Cas's shoulders, over the coat, and pulled the little dancer closer to his body. Cas complied and soon had his face buried in Dean's neck, his hands twisted in Dean's black t-shirt. Dean wrapped his other arm around Cas and kissed the top of his head. His lips lingered there as he squeezed his eyes shut and began to cry. They stayed like that for a while, a sobbing pile of fabric and flesh.  


Finally, Dean removed his arms and wiped his eyes. "I got you somethin'," he said, his voice cracking again.  


"You did not need to do that," Cas said, pulling his trench coat all the way around his body so his leotard was no longer visible.  


"Oh, I did," Dean assured him with a sad smile, "I don't want you to forget me."  


"In a million years," Cas began, "I could never forget you, Dean Winchester."  


Dean shivered and nearly started crying again at the sound of his name spoken in that rich voice with that accent. "Well, because you're a... a fucking ballet dancer, I decided to get you a little something to remind you it's alright to embrace your feminine side," he laughed and pulled a folding fan out of his jacket, holding it out to Cas.  


Cas laughed too and took the fan. Then, he bit his lip and began blinking back more tears. He quickly opened the fan and began fanning himself. "I am not going to cry," he said with a smile. "I am a _man!_ "  


Dean laughed through the tears that had begun, once again, falling down his face. He took a deep breath and began working his silver ring off his finger. "I decided to give you this as well," he looked Cas directly in the eye. "because I love you. More than words can say. I love you more than I've ever loved anything," he found Cas's hand underneath the trench coat and slipped the ring onto his forefinger. "And I promise, I'll come back. Someday, I'll come back for that, and I'll come back for you."  


"Okay," Cas said with a nod. "I look forward to that day," he stretchered up and kissed Dean quickly before burying his face in his neck again. "I love you too."


	12. The Movies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LizLovesLit saves the day... Again.

Dean stood and walked towards the kitchen of the bunker, but stopped and leaned against door frame when he saw who was already there. Cas was dissecting something on the counter top. Dean couldn't tell what it was, but there was blood. He coughed.

"Uh, Cas? It's a kitchen, not a lab." 

Cas turned around to face Dean, he held a mutilated squirrel in one gloved hand and a scalpel in the other. "I'm going to cook it when I'm finished." 

Dean cleared his throat. "You know, Crowley... he-he calls me squirrel," he laughed nervously and gestured halfheartedly to the creature in Cas's hands. 

"Mm-hmm." Cas nodded. 

"Like... what you've..." Dean sighed and gave up. He shoved his hands in his jacket pockets. "Hey, I was wondering if maybe you wanted to see a movie.. or something. Like, tonight maybe." 

Cas narrowed his eyes, "Why?" 

Dean's heart started racing. He'd barely had the courage to ask Cas out, he really didn't think he had the guts to explain why. "Uh- um... just... keep you updated," Dean joked. Of course Dean joked. Whenever Dean was in a difficult situation, his immediate response was to plow through it with a bad joke. 

Cas furrowed his brow, but nodded. "Alright. What time?" 

"Oh, you know... whenever you're done mutilating small mammals." 

"Shouldn't we have a specific time? Don't movies play at specific times?" 

Dean shrugged, "Yeah, but we'll just wing it." 

Cas did what Dean was fairly sure was a close to the rolling of eyes as an angel could get. 

"No... pun intended." 

\- 

After a silent, awkward and surprisingly long drive to the nearest theater, the discovery that far too many movies were playing within five minutes of the time they arrived, and an argument during which Dean said "no Minions" at least five times, Cas and Dean sat in one of the back rows of the theater playing 'Antman' because according to Dean, you can't go wrong with Marvel. 

Dean was a good boy. He sat through all of the previews and the first five minutes of the movie without even looking over at Cas. That was all he could do. He looked over at Cas who seemed to be fascinated by the movie. He hadn't even touched the popcorn Dean bought him. Dean reached over and grabbed Cas's soda. Cas's head whipped around so he was staring at Dean. 

"What are you doing?" he whispered. 

"Uh... hydrating," Dean whispered back, a little shocked by the response. 

"That's mine." 

"You ain't even looked at it!" 

"It's mine." 

"I bought it for you!" 

"Put it down." 

Dean did as he was told and put his hands up in surrender. "Fine," he whispered, looking back at the screen. Dean wasn't discouraged for long, though. Soon, his arm was sneaking around Cas's shoulders. It was all the way around and Dean was settling in, pleased at his success, the failure to share soda completely forgotten before Cas noticed what had been done. 

Dean felt Cas take a sharp breath and looked over in time to see the angel staring at him eyebrows knit together in confusion. 

"What?" Dean whispered, "What's wrong?" 

Cas's gaze shifted to Dean's arm. The one around his shoulders. 

"What?" Dean demanded as much as he could whilst whispering. "This is acceptable date behavior you fucking prude!" 

Cas's eyes got so wide Dean thought they might just fall out. "Date?" he mouthed. "This is a date?" he whispered. 

Dean's jaw dropped and he wasn't really sure if his heart raced or just stopped beating all together. While glad it was was dark, he was sure his face was bright enough red to be visible on the blackest of all overcast black nights. Tears started to form in his eyes even though he wasn't sad or in pain. Just mortified. "I-" he stuttered. "I have to pee," he finally forced out. He stood and the people behind them started laughing. Based on the rest of the theater, it wasn't because of the movie. 

\- 

"Shit. Shit. I am such an idiot," Dean was staring at himself in the mirror, knuckles white due to his death grip on the counter top. "I am so fucking stupid. What was I thinking? Six years I've known him and I didn't think to just ask him out like a normal person? 'Keep you updated'? I am such an idiot!" 

Someone stepped out of the stall behind Dean. Great, something else to be embarrassed about. She jumped at the sight of Dean. Wait- she? 

"Oh! Oh, dear, I'm sorry about all of that, but I think you've got the wrong toilet," the older woman said, clutching her purse to her chest. 

Dean girt his teeth and turned slowly around as if the woman would only appear to be a woman in the mirror. He took a deep breath but let it out quickly. "I am so sorry," he whispered. He was more humiliated than he had ever been. More than that time he tripped and fell on Sam just as their dad walked into the room. More than when his dad walked in on him and his girlfriend having sex. More than- wow a lot of Dean's embarrassing memories had to do with his dad walking in. 

He turned around and ran out of the bathroom, hoping to God no one saw which door he'd come from. Unfortunately, the _woman's_ bathroom was right across from the door to the theater Dean and Cas's movie was in. And Cas was standing outside that door. 

"I... don't believe that's the correct restroom," Cas said with a mouth full of popcorn. 

Dean continued walking towards Cas but turned around when he was beside him and slid down the wall until he was sitting. He buried his face in his hands and groaned. 

"Are you alright?" Cas asked, squatting by Dean. "If you're nauseous, should try the men's bathroom, you may have better luck-" 

"Cas! Please just stop," Dean said, his head still in his hands. 

Cas closed his mouth, licked his lips and looked around the hallway. "I'm sorry, Dean. I get it now. I see where I got it wrong." 

"No, no it's my fault I should've been more clear, I mean I know how you are." 

"How I am?" Cas asked softly. 

Dean looked up, at Cas. "You know what I mean. You're just... different. C'mon I asked you out. You can't seriously think I think there's something wrong with you. You know the last time I went on an actual date? It was with Lisa. Four years ago," Dean looked straight ahead, "I can't believe my first date in four years went this badly." 

Cas tilted his head sympathetically, "I'm sorry, Dean. Is there any way I can make it up to you?" 

Dean shook his head. "Let's just go home." 

Cas nodded but when Dean stood, he stood in front of him, preventing him from walking towards the exit. "For the record, I would have said yes anyway." 

"Even if you knew I was asking you out on a date?" 

Cas laughed. "Especially if I'd known you were asking me out on a date. I would've dropped Little Dean on the spot." 

"Little Dean?" 

"Uh- the squirrel." 

Dean laughed, "That is so not comforting." They smiled at each other and did nothing for a moment, but Dean found himself watching Cas's lips and licked his own. "Could I... maybe do something else that qualifies as acceptable date behavior? I mean, even though this isn't really a date." 

Cas's lips parted a little as he nodded. "I trust you," he whispered, his own eyes flickering between Dean's lips and eyes. 

Dean leaned down a little and kissed Cas softly. After a few seconds, he brought his hand up to cup Cas's cheek. It remained there a few seconds after they separated. 

"Are you sure you want to go home?" Cas asked softly. 

Dean nodded. "I don't think I ever want to see this place again. C'mon, we'll drop by the store and rent something to watch in my room," Dean threw his arm around Cas's shoulder and they started walking towards the exit. "The bunker has lovely gender neutral bathrooms." 

Cas smiled up at Dean, trusting him to lead them safely to the Impala and beyond.


	13. It's the Journey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I thought of this as I was listening to my Journey CD (as you may be able to tell... just a little bit) and I don't know why, but I really needed it to happen. So no, I'm sitting here crying. Sorry... a little.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This took me like ten minutes so I won't be that insulted if you don't like it.

"You two are so stupid," Sam slurred in the direction of the booth Dean and Cas were sitting in, side by side. Sam had been in the booth across from them, but he'd stood when he got drunk enough to dance. And yell at Cas and Dean. "So... fucking stupid. Everyone can see it you guys just need to," hiccup, "fuck already," he took another sip of his drink. "The sexual tension is... real... ovious."  


Dean scoffed, "Go back to your girl, Sammy, she's lookin' a little lonely," Dean nodded towards a woman sitting at the bar watching Sam. He'd been dancing quite provocatively with her for a while, but Sam had been distracted by his brother and the awkward angel who hadn't moved since he left.  


"I _don_ need you to set me up _Dean_ ," he said defiantly.  


"I'm not setting you up, little brother, you were grinding five minutes ago."  


Sam scoffed, "I'll go see the girl if you," he pointed at Dean. "Get off your sorry ass and dance with Cas."  


"Okay, Sam. I'll dance with Cas," Dean promised, speaking to Sam as if he were a child.  


"You promise?"  


Dean laughed, "Yeah, I promise."  


Sam nodded. He narrowed his eyes at the two, but turned around and walked back to the woman at the bar.  


Dean laughed again, "Man, he is _plastered_. Honestly surprised he could walk, although obviously he can't manage a straight line." Dean looked at Cas who's expression was impossible to read, as usual. He was looking at Dean.  


"He's right," he said so quietly Dean could barely hear him over the music and random noise of the bar.  


Dean raised his eyebrows.  


"About me, at least," he looked away. "You really gonna dance withe me?"  


"Uh," Dean started. "You really want to dance?"  


"I like this song," Cas offered.  


Dean tilted his head and listened for a moment. "You don't know this song."  


"Faithfully, Journey."  


Dean bit his lip. "Alright let's go. Let's dance, you dork."  


Cas smiled a little, which was weird, and followed Dean as he got up from the booth.  


-Almost exactly a year later-  


Cas stormed into the first bar he saw. He was so angry. He wanted to rip something's head off. But he wasn't going to do that. He was going to get roaring drunk.  


He looked around at the establishment he'd entered and swore when he realized where he was. He was in the same bar where he and Dean had begun their relationship. He'd been trying to escape Dean, not walk into the location of their first date. He could see the booth where they'd watched Sam's drunk dancing. There were people on the makeshift dance floor now, and he could see where Dean had kissed him. He swore again and held back angry tears.  


He wanted to leave. He wanted to turn around and run out as fast as he could. He wouldn't do that, though. That would be letting Dean win, and he just couldn't do that. Not after what he'd said... So, he sat at the bar and ordered a lot of something. Something strong.  


He rubbed his eyes and sighed, but stopped moving all together when he heard what was playing.

_"This should be our song, Cas," Dean said. Faithfully was playing on the radio. Cas was resting his head on Dean's bare chest, Dean was staring at the ceiling_  
_"Why do we need a song?" Cas asked._  
_"Because we're gonna be like every other apple-pie couple and have a song and an anniversary and all that sappy shit."_  
_Cas smiled. "And you want it to be this one because it was what was playing when Sam forced us to dance?"_  
_"And I can't think of a better song than this. I'm on the road a lot- not as glamorous as being in a band, I grant you- but, I can promise you, if you stand by me, I'm forever yours... faithfully."_

Cas took a deep breath. Dean was everywhere. He was in the song, he was in the booth, he was at the bar, ordering another round. Generally, this was a good thing, but after that fight... Cas wasn't sure Dean _was_ forever his.  


"Hey."  


Cas looked up. There was a woman with boyish short dark blonde hair and lively green eyes beside him, leaning against the bar. She was wearing a brown leather jacket, something plaid under that, jeans and work boots.  


"Buy you a drink?" she asked, a smile playing at her lips.  


Cas took a deep breath. This woman- this attractive woman, wanted to buy him a drink. She would probably be looking for a hookup. He thought about Dean, about exactly how much he'd be fucking things up with Dean if he did this. How much it would hurt Dean. But he was so, so angry at Dean. Things were already pretty fucked up...  


He took a deep breath. "Yeah. Sure."  


-The Next Day-  


Dean sat in the war room and drummed his fingers against the table. He'd had a pretty intense fight with Cas last night. He couldn't even remember why. He'd been a little drunk, and it had just turned into pointless yelling, and pointing out each other's flaws and fuck ups. That wasn't what upset Dean. Last night- yeah he'd been pretty pissed, but now he couldn't care less about the fight. He cared that Cas hadn't come back home afterwards. He'd stormed out, claiming he was going to get a drink. Dean knew the kind of vultures that pursued bars, he used to be one of them. Either Cas had gone home with one, or he was missing. Both scenarios were cause for worry.  


Finally, at about ten o'clock in the morning, Cas walked in the door.  


"Morning," Dean said, not intending to say anything else. Cas would explain himself on his own. First, he would throw some bullshit Dean's way, but eventually, Cas would tell the truth.  


"I'm sorry," Cas said as he walked down the stairs. "I was so angry last night. I was furious and there she was, offering me a drink."  


"Oh," Dean laughed, "It was a woman."  


Cas sat down at the table, across from Dean.  


"Did you fuck her?"  


"I- uh-"  


"Of course you did," Dean whispered. "Well, I guess I've taught you well."  


"No- Dean-"  


Dean slammed his hand down on the table and stood. "Don't even try to deny it, Cas! I know you fucked her I can see the guilt in your god damn eyes! That sort of guilt don't come from someone buying you a drink!" he yelled.  


Cas took two quick breaths and bit his lip to keep from crying.  


"Don't you do that!" Dean shouted. "Don't you fucking cry, you did this! You cheated! You don't get to _cry_! No one held a gun to your head and forced you!" there was a certain danger in Dean's eyes.  


"A gun wouldn't have-"  


" _Shut up_ ," Dean took a deep breath. "You know, if you'd asked me which one of us would cheat- even last night- I would've said me. I'm crazy about you, absolutely fucking insane over you, and I still would've said me."  


Cas stood and walked around the table so he was on the same side as Dean. "There is absolutely no excuse for what I did."  


"Damn right."  


"But I am still so, so, sorry."  


Dean swallowed, then clenched his jaw. "You know, I think Separate Ways would be a better song for us."  


Cas's face fell and his heart nearly stopped. Was Dean breaking up with him? "It's- uh- interesting that you should choose that song," he sniffed and wiped a tear off his cheek. "Since the singer admits he still loves the person he's singing to."  


"I don't think I could get over you if I wanted to, Cas," Dean said, stepping a little closer and taking Cas's hand. He stared at their hands and shuddered. "And I really don't want to," he whispered. "But I just can't forgive this. Not right away."  


Cas nodded, "I understand."  


"And... I think you'd better stay in your old room for a few nights."  


"Okay," Cas whispered, tears streaming down his face now. He wiped a few away with the hand that wasn't in Dean's. He wouldn't move that one, not until Dean let go. That may be the last time Cas would feel the touch of that hand, and he wasn't going to cut it short.  


"It doesn't have to be over," Dean said, beginning to cry himself. "I just... I need time."  


Cas began to shake as Dean let go of his hand and walked away. He stood, shaking and sobbing until after Dean was out of sight.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you didn't sing Faithfully when I quoted it, I'm judging you (but only a little because you know I love you)


	14. Cas and Dean Walk into a Bar...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's official. LizLovesLit has saved me enough times I had to do it.

Dean laughed at the cute blonde's stupid joke. She had told him her name, but he'd quickly forgotten. Her boobs were just that distracting. And so... out there. Dean smiled and nodded when he was through laughing. "Yeah," he said. "Hey, you said you had that... sister?"  


"Yeah! She's... right over there," the blonde said in her obnoxiously high voice laced with a Texas accent. She pointed to a woman across the bar, leaning over a pool table wearing an outfit as revealing as her sister's half unbuttoned button-up and booty shorts. They shared the curly blonde hair and overall hotness.  


"Gotta love Texas," Dean murmured. "You know, I can really see the family resemblance."  


The blonde laughed, "'Cause she's my twin!"  


Dean laughed again and turned to look at Cas. The angel was staring blankly in front of him. Rather than the expression of pure fear he wore when Dean first tried to get him laid, Cas's features were set in an expression that simply oozed agitation.  


_This oughta cheer him up,_ Dean thought. "Hey... Cas!" Cas turned to look at Dean, but his expression did not change. "Buddy... I want you to meet... uh-"  


"Stella," the blonde held out her right hand- which had previously been clutching her beer. Cas didn't respond.  


"Yeah, he doesn't... well, Stella here has a twin sister and I thought-"  


Cas did something halfway between a scoff and a sigh and looked away.  


Stella smiled questioningly at Dean. "You know, I'll be right back," she walked off and rejoined her sister.  


"Dude!" Dean complained, looking back at Cas when he was through staring at Stella's barely clothed ass. "I totally set you up there, if you'd just pull the stick out of your ass for thirty seconds you could hook up with-"  


Cas looked back at the wall. "I don't want to 'hook up' with anyone you ignorant son of a bitch," he spat.  


"Whoa!" Dean exclaimed. "What ticked you off?"  


Cas looked back at Dean and clenched his jaw. "You." He stood and started walking out the door. Dean chugged the rest of his beer- it was nearly empty anyway- and followed him out the door. When he exited the bar, Cas was nowhere to be seen, so he decided the parking lot was a good bet. He found Cas sitting on the Impala's hood, playing with the belt on his trench coat.  


"What the fuck is wrong with you?" Dean demanded, still about twenty feet away.  


"I thought I made that clear."  


"What am I doing wrong? What buttons am I unknowingly pushing? Crap, I didn't even think you _had_ buttons!"  


"There are buttons on my trench coat," he said, still looking down.  


"Don't even pretend you don't know what I mean."  


He looked up at Dean, who had made it to the Impala. "You're trying to hook up with some skank in a bar-"  


"That's just me, Cas."  


"Trying to drag me in... I mean you're flirting with everyone in sight. Everyone besides..." Cas trailed off and looked to the left. There was a convertible pulling out of the parking lot with Stella and her sister in it, whooping and hollering with four other guys. "Never mind. Let's just go back to the bunker."  


"Everyone besides who, Cas? Why do you care who I flirt with?"  


"Because- fuck! Dean, you're so stupid!"  


"No, I'm really not."  


"I'm not going to... spell it out for you. I mean, if you had half a brain- if you wanted it, you'd see it already," Cas hopped off the car, landing a few inches closer to Dean than he had been when he was sitting. This left only three inches between the two. Cas's plan had been to get in the car after hopping off of it, but now he was so close. He could smell the alcohol on Dean's breath and he could smell the leather jacket he was wearing that night. There was a streetlight behind Cas. The extra light helped Cas see the true color of Dean's eyes and the extent of his long and slightly feminine eyelashes, to count his freckles and to admire the shadows his lips cast upon themselves. Castiel saw all of this without extending his vision beyond that of his vessel, allowing him to feel more normal. More human. A human would have much better chances at being able to gaze into those eyes, touch the freckles and kiss those lips. A better chance than a creature that should have been killed by the hands now taking hold of his years ago...  


The changes in Dean's face were evident when what Cas was saying finally clicked. He licked his lips, but left them slightly parted. He held Cas's hands just a little bit tighter. Somehow, his entire face softened, even in the harsh light of the streetlight. Cas wanted to caress it. In fact, he did. Dean's eyes followed Cas's hand as he pulled it free and brought it up to lightly drag it across the skin of Dean's cheek. His stubble felt rough against the palm of Cas'd hand and the angel smiled at the contrast between how it looked and how it felt.  


"Everyone besides you," Dean murmured. Cas felt Dean's jaw move beneath his hand. That's when he drew it back. Dean didn't try to hold it again, he just looked down at Cas.  


"I'm sorry," Cas mumbled back.  


Dean furrowed his brow. He looked so innocent- something he most certainly was not. "What for?"  


"You're straight. Everyone knows you're straight. I shouldn't have said anything. Let's just go back to the bunker," Cas pulled his other hand out of the protective grasp of Dean's hand and began to turn to get in the car. Dean stopped him by grabbing his tie and pulling him in for a kiss.  


" _Really_ not that straight," he assured Cas.  


Cas worked through a second or two of shock before throwing his arms around Dean's neck and kissing him back.  


"I agree. We should be getting back," Dean said breathlessly. "My room has yet to see any action. Think we should change that?"  


Cas grinned- that was definitely new. "I think we should."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's my birthday in 45 minutes... happy birthday to me and Harry Potter...


	15. Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, let's be honest. You set me up for sad.  
> You set me up for sad, I just can't resist the urge...  
> *whispers manically* Please don't hate me, please don't hate me, please don't hate me...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> !Warning! There is major character death and the beginnings of attempted suicide in this chapter. Read at your own risk.
> 
> I apologize for any randomly capitalized words, my computer seems to be making random words into ads and they just appear as all caps on any other computer. There shouldn't be any but you never know with my luck.

Cas couldn't stay in the bunker. Not after what happened. All that was left there for Cas was memories. Good ones, bad ones, happy ones and sad ones. Memories with Dean, memories with Sam, memories with both. There would be no more of those. The brothers would be making no more memories, and after tonight, Cas wouldn't either. He brushed his hand over the angel blade resting on the desk in his room, but settled on picking up a box he'd always kept there. It was a small redwood box, easily could have been a jewelry box, but that wasn't what it was. He sat on his bed with the little box on his lap. The bed was a useless piece of furniture, Cas didn't sleep. Dean had insisted the angel have one. He'd said the room looked too much like an office without it. Of course, Cas hadn't cared what his room looked like. He cared now. He wanted to please Dean now, which was stupid. Sam and Dean were in Heaven now, for good. Cas wished desperately he could see them, but Heaven's security was high, and he had no way of getting in. This, this box, was as close as he could get.  


He took a deep breath and opened the lid. The first thing he saw was a pair of necklaces. One was a bad replica of the other. Dean had thrown both away. The first, the original, Sam had given to Dean one Christmas a long time ago. Dean had worn it every day after that until Cas took it from him because he'd thought it would help him find God. Dean had dropped it in the trash after Cas told him it was useless. If Cas had been thinking straight, he would have picked it up and given it back to Dean, but he'd been so disappointed, felt like such a failure... So Sam had been the one to pull the amulet out of the trash.  


"I've never felt right with it," Sam had said, examining it. The statement made sense considering he was the vessel for the devil and the amulet was associated with God. "He wouldn't want me to have it anyway. Not after what happened with Ruby. Shouldn't just be thrown away, though. Someone should have it. Sam had been heartbroken.  


Not a day went by when Dean hadn't regretted throwing that amulet away. Not a day went by when Cas didn't consider giving it back. He'd never known what kept him from doing it, but he wished he had.  


The next necklace was the 'Samulet' from the musical a group of girls had put on, based on the Supernatural books. One of the girls had convinced Dean to keep it, and guilt ridden as he had been at the time for indirectly dragging the girls in, Dean had taken it. It hung from the rear-view mirror for about a week before Dean laughed at himself and threw it away. Cas had seen it, and thought it was an interesting souvenir. Pointless, since he had the real amulet, but he'd kept it anyway.  


Cas took the two amulets out and set them on the bed beside him. The next thing in the box looked like a black leather wallet. Cas knew better. He picked it up and opened it- upside down. He smiled, but it was only to keep from crying. It was the fake FBI badge Dean had given him for his first hunt. He studied the picture. Because he was possessed by an angel, Jimmy Novak would only show physical signs of aging if Cas wanted him to, but he still looked very different. In a subtle way, Cas had looked proud. As if his purpose were righteous and he knew it. As if he had a purpose. Now, he just looked tired. The frown was worn into his features, his eyes no longer bore the same brightness. It seemed like even his grace had faded.  


He set the FBI badge by the two other artifacts and pulled the last item out of the box. This one he'd pulled out of a fire. He'd repaired it with 'angel mojo' as Dean would have said, back when he was at full power and could waste energy one something as trivial as a photograph. Seemingly so, anyway. Everyone in this photograph besides Cas was dead. Jo, Ellen, Bobby and finally Sam and Dean. Soon, Cas's name would join that list. Soon, everyone in the photo would be dead.  


Cas had ruined this photo. Everyone had been smiling, laughing, a little drunk, then, Cas had told them what they already knew- they would probably die the next day. He'd considered changing it, making everyone look happy like they were supposed to. That just didn't seem right. Two of the people in the picture _had_ died the next day, making this the last photo every taken of them. It should be real. And so it was. Up until that moment. Cas shook his head and squeezed his eyes shut to keep from crying. He would do anything to see Dean smile again. He looked up at the angel blade lying on his desk. _Anything._  


Cas stood and walked back to the desk, leaving the amulets, badge, box, and photo of six smiling people on the bed. His fingers brushed over the cold metal again. He remembered when it had first been given to him, still warm from the fires of Heaven's forges. He'd been so honored. He'd finally felt like a soldier. Every angel got one after Lucifer fell. Of course, enough angels had died in the past decade for there to be replacements, but Cas had always held on to his. Even when he was is Purgatory. Even when he'd been a God. Who knew what would become of it now? Maybe the next hunters to find the bunker would take it from the pile of his cold bones. Who knew how long it would be before those doors opened again? Who cared?  


Cas closed his grip on the blade's hilt. He brought the blade up so the very tip was level with his eyes. He ran the forefinger of his free hand up the edge of it. When his finger reached the tip, he pressed down until a drop of blood appeared and grace flooded to the wound, trying in vain to heal it. As soon as the blade broke the skin, the room was flooded with the smell of leather. The scent was welcome and familiar. It reminded him of home- wherever that was. It reminded him of Dean.  


He closed his eyes and inhaled through his nose, but the scent was gone after a few seconds, and Cas was pulled violently back into reality by the sharp pain in his finger. He opened his eyes and stared at the blade. His finger was still on it, the blade was digging deeper into the digit and blood was beading up and slowly trickling down. Cas removed his hand and looked at the wound before flipping the blade over in his hand. He closed his eyes and pictured Dean's dead body in the bunker's kitchen. Cas lined his own blade up with the stab wound in Dean's abdomen. The angel blade would kill Castiel in seconds. It had taken Dean hours to die.  


A few tears escaped as Cas's eyes fluttered open and he grasped the hilt with both hands. Then, it was back. The smell of leather. And there was something else too... whiskey and... gunpowder. Cas smiled although he was crying so hard he was shaking now.  


"Dean," he breathed, "Dean, let go."  


Though he saw nothing, Cas felt two hands, rough, but no less warm placed over his own hands on the hilt of the angel blade. Cas squinted and thought he caught a glimpse of Dean, hazy and transparent through the tears. The blade clattered the the ground as Cas staggered back until he hit the bed. He sat and buried his face in his hands.  


"I'm sorry, Dean," he sobbed, "I can't do it. I can't keep going. Not without you."  


"You have to," Dean whispered, his lips brushing against Cas's ear. "But not without me."  


"Claim your place in Heaven, Dean. You deserve it."  


"I'm not goin' anywhere."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that took so amazingly long, I've been away from the computer. So I wrote this on paper first. And finished it three days ago. Yeah, I need help.


	16. San Francisco Bay

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> While a little grungy, San Francisco Bay really is beautiful. And you'd be surprised how inspiring it is! Well, when you're crazy like me and sad because you're watching the boats go by ALONE.  
> Go California!

Dean took Cas's hand as they walked now the pier in silence. There were three massive boats docked directly across the small channel separating the piers. One was _The San Francisco Belle_. A man was setting up a tripod for his massive professional camera which was pointed at one of the boats. The only sound was the watter lapping up against the pier.

"What do you think he's doing?" Dean whispered to Cas. "That almost looks like a news camera."

Cas just smiled and shook his head. They continued walked until they turned a corner. Cas's breath caught when he saw the view. Dean smiled, but it wasn't at the bay. They kept walking, but Cas couldn't take his eyes off the water, so they sat at the first bench they came to. Cas glanced quickly at the building behind them.

"Pier 1," he read. His attention quickly turned back to the bay, though, as Dean put one arm around his shoulders. Cas rested his head on Dean's shoulder and intertwined his fingers with those on the hand still in Dean's lap.

The water was a sickly shade of brown and you'd be hard pressed to find a fish that wouldn't kill you with mercury poisoning, but the fog was just starting roll in, disguising the color of the water, and putting a haze over Oakland and the other side of the bay. To the right, the Bay Bridge was just starting to light up, and to the left, you could just barely see the San Rafael Bridge.

Six benches away, a woman- probably a college student- with a sketchpad and a box of fancy pencils stared out at San Francisco Bay. The cameraman was turning the corner and setting up his camera so it had a clear view of Cas, Dean, and they Bay Bridge behind them.

"Should we leave?" Cas asked, his head no longer on Dean's shoulder.

"No," Dean said, still looking at the water.

"What if it is news?"

Dean looked at Cas. "Then everyone will know I'm in love with an angel."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guess where I was this weekend XD


	17. Drive-In

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Someone gave me this plot... I was bored and in the car and this happened. Warning, there is Sabriel. If that makes you angry or something... I don't know I'm barely keeping my eyes open.

"You just gonna stand there, Cassie?" Gabriel asked.  


Cas had been standing in the doorway of Sam's room in silence for a full minute. He'd been watching Gabriel set up his latest cruel prank on an unsuspecting young hunter- which would inevitably end up being blamed on said hunter's older brother.  


"Dean's asked me to see a movie with him at the drive-in."  


"Those still exist?"  


"Evidently."  


"Well that's good. I'm glad he finally grew a pair and asked you out. What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be getting ready for your date?"  


Cas opened his mouth but nothing came out for a few seconds. "I-I can't."  


Gabriel looked up from what he was doing, at Cas, for the first time since the younger angel had arrived. "What?"  


"I've never been on a date," Cas said, panic flooding his voice. "I don't know what to do, what to say, how to act-"  


"Okay! Calm down!"  


"I don't want to mess this up this up, Gabriel Dean is my best friend."  


"Gee, thanks. You know, usually, the girl would come running to her older, more mature and significantly more attractive _best friend_ when the hot, popular guy asked her out."  


"Gabriel!"  


"What do you want from me? Do you want me to tell you how to act on a date? Can't you access that file somewhere in your hard-drive Lieutenant Commander Data?"  


"No, don't be silly. I want you to come with us."  


Gabriel choked on... well nothing, "Go with you? Are you insane? I can't go with you on a date! Talk about being a third wheel!"  


"I can't go alone."  


"You won't be alone. You'll have Dean. _Your best friend_."  


Cas sighed and gave Gabriel his best puppy-dog eyes. He'd leaned that from Sam. Apparently it was a good skill for younger siblings to have, Apparently, it worked on archangels.  


"Alright, baby bro," Gabriel caved. "I'll go with you."  


Cas breathed a sigh of relief.  


"It will be like a double date."  


Cas failed to hide his confusion as Gabriel went back to setting up his prank. "I'm gonna bring Sam," he explained.  


It was Cas's turn to choke on nothing. "Doesn't he think you're dead?"  


Gabriel shrugged, "Yeah, why?"  


-  


"I can't believe we're still doing this," Dean mumbled as he pulled into a space near the back of the lot in front of the theater screen.  


"Why?" Cas asked, looking at Dean, a little hurt.  


Dean did his agitated laugh. "Oh- I don't know, Sammy is gay, Gabriel, Loki, the _fucking trickster_ is alive... Let's go to the fucking movies!"  


"Your brother is bisexual, not gay. You're the one who suggested the movies," Cas looked back out at the other cars and the screen.  


Dean turned the car off. "Yeah, back when Sam dug chicks and it was just a date. Now we're going with the son of a bitch who ganked me over a hundred times, and I feel like my whole life is a lie."  


"Sam is still interested in women, Dean. And, since Gabriel is a celestial being, he had no gender. His vessel just happens to be male."  


Dean shrugged. "He's alive and that's a problem."  


Cas glared at Dean, "He's my brother!"  


"You gonna want anything to eat?" Dean asked, digging through the Impala's ashtray in a desperate attempt to find some cash.  


"What?"  


"For the movie. You want some popcorn or candy or somethin'? I just wonder if I should call Sammy and tell him to bring extra cash."  


"I don't need to eat."  


Dean rolled his eyes. "Cas, this isn't food you eat because you have to eat. This is food you eat to enjoy and get fat and develop type two diabetes. Plus, popcorn is just a movie classic."  


"I- I don't understand."  


"I'll just take that as a no," Dean mumbled. He checked the time on his phone. The movie was about to start. "Where the _fuck_ are they?" he growled.  


"Late," Cas stated, studying the passenger door.  


"I should call Sam."  


Just as Dean was dialing Sam's number, Gabriel pulled up beside the Impala in a bright red convertible 2016 Mustang, a pouting Sammy in tow.  


"You're late," Dean informed them. "Nice ride."  


"He _fucking stole it,_ " San snapped, arms crossed over his chest.  


Dean laughed, "You can create anything you want out of nothing at all and you steal a car to go to the movies?"  


Gabriel shrugged, "This way's more fun."  


"Dean and I were America's most wanted men three year ago. Don't you think stealing a car is a bit risky?"  


"C'mon Sam, live a little!"  


Dean turned to Cas. "Well those two were just made for each other."  


Cas grinned and nodded. He was beginning to enjoy himself.  


"I've lived a little, I've died a little, what's next?" Sam said, drawing their attention back.  


"Oh, Sammy, you're such a square!" Dean teased. Someone in the car in front of the Impala shushed them.  


"I took your advice," Gabriel said, addressing Cas. "I made sure he was nowhere near an angel blade when I told him I was alive."  


Dean leaned over to Cas, "We'll discuss why you knew Gabriel was alive before Sam and I- and how he got into the bunker later," he whispered. "When we're not on a double first date," he moved away from Cas a little. "Great idea, by the way. I was skeptical at first, but these two are way more entertaining than any movie."  


Cas chuckled and scooted a little closer to Dean. The bench seat allowed them to sit together. Dean's arm eventually found its way around Cas's shoulders. The both of them eventually stopped watching their brothers and the movie and instead watched each other. Green eyes caught blue and didn't let go. The space between them which had been getting smaller and smaller since Sam and Gabriel arrived soon disappeared as Cas found himself learning very quickly how to act on a date.


	18. Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas and Dean find themselves in Lawrence, Kansas.  
> This was another plot recommended by a friend.

"I can't believe Sam didn't want to come," Dean said as they Lawrence city limits sign whooshed by. "He's the sappy, nostalgic one."

"Evidently not," Cas mumbled, staring out the window.

"We've got to as least drive by it, right?"

Cas looked at Dean tiredly. "That is the fifth time you've asked that question. You obviously want to see it. Just drive by and _shut up_."

Dean raised his eyebrows, "Someone's pissy."

"You've been debating with yourself about seeing your old house- or whatever took its place for the past three and a half hours. So yeah, I'm a little agitated."

"That's it. I want to see it," Dean said, ignoring Cas. Cas sighed dramatically. "Although-"

"Oh for fuck's-"

Dean cut Cas off by cracking up. 

"How does Sam put up with you?"

That only made Dean laugh harder. He leaned over in the bench seat without taking his eyes off the road and kissed Cas on the cheek. "How do you?"

Cas rolled his eyes. "Watch the road you idiot. You'll get us both killed."

-

Dean pulled up by the curb across from his old property. He waited for a moment before shifting into park.

"I can't believe they built another house on that lot," Dean growled.

"It's been over thirty years since the fire. What were they supposed to do?"

"Someone died here!"

"Thirty years ago! Just because you can't move on doesn't mean the world shouldn't!"

Dean clenched his jaw and stared out the windshield.

"Dean, I'm sorry. I didn't mean-"

"That's childhood trauma, Cas. Ain't that shit supposed to scar you for life?"

"Of course, Dean, No one can blame you for feeling uneasy or even betrayed. Your mother will always be important to you, even if she was only physically part of your life for a few years. I understand seeing the place she died remodeled and turned into a family home makes you angry, but can you imagine what the world would be like if every house someone died was was just left to rot for thirty years?"

Dean turned back to Cas and gave him a sad smile, "I knew I kept you around for a reason," he said and kissed Cas quickly. "I mean, besides the fact that I love you."

"I love you too," Cas said softly, putting his hand over Dean's on the seat. 

Dean looked out his window. A little boy ran out the front door of his old house, followed quickly by his mother.

"I wonder if they know," Dean said softly. The woman noticed the running car and waved. She looked kinda like Mary. Dean smiled and waved back without thinking. He looked back at Cas, who was watching him fondly.

"Let's find a room," Dean said, moving his hand so he could shift the Impala back into drive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The car I'm restoring doesn't shift right now (long story) so whenever there's a running car involved in something I write, I put a lot of shifting in it. I miss it. Reverse is really handy. You don't really realize how much you use reverse until you don't have it.


	19. Travelers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So, I'm going to continue this as its own thing because I have a lot of ideas for it.  
> Anyway, this isn't super romantic because... well I'm not super okay with bestiality but I think it's pretty cute.  
> Dean is picking Cas and Sam up from the airport after a visit with Ellen, Jo and Bobby. Dean owns a shop, Sam lives on and off with both Jess and Dean... everyone is much happier than they are in the show.  
> Most of that information is only important if you're planning on reading the rest when I post it.

Dean rolled out from under the car he was working on when he thought he heard his ringtone. Sure enough, on the hood of the '64 Falcon, his phone was alight and vibrating. Dean answered before reading the caller ID. He knew exactly what it said.

"Hey Sammy!" he said, a little too eager. He walked out of his shop even though, because it was a Saturday, he was the only one working.

 _"Hey Dean. I'm- uh,"_  there was the sound of something crashing to the ground, _"Just getting on the plane now. Son of a bitch in front of me dropped his carry-"_

"Is he with you?" Dean demanded.

 _"Dean-"_  
"You know how much he hates-"

_"Yes. I know how much he hates that. The real question is, how do you?"_

"Sam Winchester! Is he with you?"

Sam laughed, _"Yes, Dean. We're sitting down now. I even gave him the window."_

Dean leaned against the Impala which was parked outside the garage. "Oh good, he got his own seat."

_"Well, what else was I supposed to do? Let him sit on my lap for two hours?"_

"Can you put him on the phone?" Dean asked hopefully.

Sam scoffed. _"No."_

"Why not?" Dean whined.

_"Oh, come on. You know why not!"_

"I just want to tell him I love him."

_"Oh trust me. He knows. Hey, listen, I have to go. We land at six. Be there. Within the hour."_

"You really think I'm going to be late to see my baby?"

 _"Of course. You'r'e never late when Cas is involved._ "

"See you in a few hours."

 _"See you,"_ Sam hung up.

Dean slipped his phone in his back pocket before walking back into the shop. He stared at the Falcon for a moment, trying to remember what he had been doing. He gave up. It took about an hour and a half to get the the airport anyway. Two with traffic. If the roads were clear, Dean could pick up some biscuits for Cas. Cas loved biscuits. He'd need some after four days away from Dean and a flight with Sam.

-

Dean leaned against the running Impala in a zone marked "Pick-up/Drop-off only. No parking". He'd been 'not parked' for fifteen minutes, turned the engine off for three short periods of time, but thought of Baby #2 impounded and turned it back on. The glass doors slid open and for the second time since Dean's arrival, a crowd of people flooded from the latest landing. Dean skimmed the crowd for the brown head of his taller-than-average brother. He finally found him towards the back of the crowd, being dragged by a large dog. As soon as the black Newfoundland dog caught sight of Dean, he slipped from Sam's grasp and lumbered towards him.

"Cas!" Dean yelled, getting on his knees and spreading his arms. Castiel hit him like the freight train and almost knocked him over. He licked Dean's face over and over as Dean laughed and ran his fingers through his fur- of which there was a lot. When Cas was content with the amount of kisses he'd given Dean, he stared into his eyes, tail wagging so hard his entire body shook. Dean grinned at his rare, blue eyed hound.

"Hi. My name is Sam. I'm your brother. What you've got there is a dog. I think you have our roles confused," Sam said, looking down at Cas and Dean.

Dean stood and smiled at his brother, but didn't take his hand off the dog's head. "Hey Sammy. Nice flight?"

"Would've been better without the dog breath. But the familiar company was nice."

"Aww!" Dean said, focusing on the dog again, "Your breath is fine!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I thought of this when we were picking up my mother at the airport. Her flight landed a few minutes late so I ended up watching people reunite and it was really great. And then there was this dog. This lab escaped from whoever had it on a leash and flew towards his owner and TACKLED HIM. It was the cutest thing I've ever seen. As soon as the dog was finished attacking his owner with kisses, he jumped into his truck and in half a second his head was out the driver's side window. The dog was so excited his entire body was wiggling and I decided I absolutely had to do something with that.


	20. 65... Is that the Engine Size?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I started this like two weeks ago. I changed it so it takes place in a small town I stayed in last night. (Not my own)

Dean ran his hand over the Bondo work he had just feathered. Smooth, perfect, once that was painted, no one would even be able to tell it had been rusted all the way through. Dean smiled and pulled the dirty rag out of his back pocket. He wiped his hands down with it, then the sanded spot, and shoved it back in his pocket. 

"Hey."

Dean looked up. There was someone standing on the sidewalk just outside of the garage Dean was working in. It was a boy, a little shorter than Dean, but about the same age. He had black, unruly looking hair and bright blue eyes. He wore a trench coat over an ill fitting suit and a backwards tie. Dean looked behind him, but of course there was no one there.

"Hey?" he said, walking closer to the edge of the garage.

"I... I like your car. Mustang right? I like Mustangs."

Dean nodded. "'65, but it's not mine. Just fixin' it up for a little extra cash. Can I help you?"

"65... is that the engine size?"

Dean laughed, "No, the year," there was a bit of an awkward silence. "You don't... know the first thing about cars do you?"

The boy laughed nervously and looked away quickly. "No, not really." He licked his lips. "I mean, I'd like to."

"Didn't think so, somethin' about the suit. What's your name?" Dean asked, walking out of the garage, and closer to the boy.

"Cas. I was at... church."

"Well I'm Dean," Dean began to extend his hand, but noticed it was covered in Bondo dust. He started to wipe it on his jeans, but realized his entire body was covered in the stuff. "I would shake your hand but you seem so clean."

Cas flashed a smiled and nodded. "You know, I don't know the first thing about you, either."

Dean furrowed his brow, "And?"

"Well, it's a very small town and-"

"Let me guess: you'd like to."

Cas laughed. "Yeah."

Dean nodded. Then, he turned around and walked back towards the car. Then, he turned again, and sat on the trunk. "C'mon in. The owners are out of town and... well they told me the garage was mine while I work on their car."

Cas nodded and took a few steps inside the garage.

"Pull up a crate," Dean said, gesturing to what he'd been sitting on while sanding down the rust on the rear wheel well. "Have a seat. You can just set the orbital sander on the ground."

Cas did as he was told, and sat facing Dean on the crate.

"So you want to know about me, huh? You just happened to be walkin' by, on your way home from church, and you saw me and went 'Now him I'd like to get to know.'"

"Well, like I said, it's a very small town and I've been here quite a while... I've never seen you."

"Ah, that I can explain," Dean said, "My dad travels for work and he heard about a job here. So here I am. Sometimes, when he's out, I'll find people with an old car they're too lazy to fix up, and work on it while I"m in town. We've got a '67 Impala, but between me and my dad, we keep that baby running like new so there's not much work to be done on it, and I like to stay busy. Besides, someone's got to make some money."

"I thought your dad was working."

Dean laughed, "Yeah, but he don't exactly make millions."

Cas nodded. 

"Not as interesting as you thought, eh?"

"No, very interesting. You're from out of town, so automatically more interesting than anyone here. Have you got any siblings?"

"Yeah. Little brother named Sam. He's back at the hotel reading or studying or something that will undoubtedly improve his future."

Cas laughed and no one spoke for a few seconds.

"So did I hear music coming from that roadhouse last night or am I crazy?" Dean asked, breaking the silence.

"Oh, yeah. There's a local band that plays there... well every night. They're pretty good. They'll play about every classic rock song you can think of."

Dean laughed, "Oh, I'd like to see them try."

Cas's face lit up, "You want to see them play tonight?" he asked. He obviously spoke before he thought about what he was saying, because about half a second after he asked, his face turned bright red. "I mean, if you're still in town. If you're not busy. If you... want to?"

Dean laughed again, "Yeah sure. I'm staying at the Dutch Cup, so I'm right across the street. I'll meet you there. How about eight? I'll buy you dinner," he winked.  
"It's a date. I mean- not a date- I-"

Dean grinned, "It's a date."

Cas blushed, but smiled.

"You gonna wear your church clothes?" Dean teased.

Cas chuckled, "No, I'll change."

"Too bad," Dean winked again, "They look good on you." He jumped off the hood of the car and started polishing the chrome with his back to Cas.

Cas smiled a little, stood, and continued walking home.


	21. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmares

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit is this really chapter 21?

Dean's eyes flew open at the sound of a man screaming. He whipped the knife out from under his pillow and sat straight up. He looked frantically to the side to see Cas also sitting up in bed beside him. His bare chest was heaving, his eyes were wide open and tears were streaming down his face.

Dean dropped the knife, Cas looked over at the sound. As soon as his eyes met Dean's and he saw the worry in them, Cas started to shake.

"I woke you-" he started before sobbing and collapsing into Dean's arms. "I'm so sorry," he said, though it was barely audible.

"Shh," Dean stroked Cas's hair as the former angel's hands twisted into Dean's loose t-shirt . "It's okay, you're okay. I'm right here."

Sam burst into the room, hair wild, gun ready. Cas didn't react. Dean figured he might not have heard, or maybe he was embarrassed about Sam seeing him in this state. Dean caught Sam's eye and nodded. Sam understood. He turned around and left the room silently, closing the door behind him.

Dean kissed the top of Cas's head. "Another nightmare?"

Cas nodded, but said nothing.

"Oh baby," Dena said, holding him tighter. "The same one as before?"

Cas shook his head. "They're getting worse," he said, voice muffled by Dean's shirt.

"Do you want to talk to someone about it?

Cas looked up at Dean and furrowed his brow. He'd stopped crying but he still looked shaken up.

"There are people who can help get rid of nightmares, Cas. Therapists and-"

Cas shook his head. "I don't want to... I wouldn't be comfortable..."

"Babe, you need to sleep."

Cas sighed, "I do sleep." He fell back on the bed, leaving the security of Dean's embrace. "Tell me about something happy."

It wasn't an odd request. Cas had nightmares almost every night. He would always wake up screaming. He would never tell Dean what they were about, but sometimes he screamed Dean's name. When he calmed down, Cas would always ask to hear a happy story. Dean had quickly run out of those, so he'd started to tell Cas about when he'd dreamed about him before they'd met. Cas had no idea what had caused these dreams, but he loved to hear about them. They were always happy. There was always peace. Nothing important ever happened.

"Okay," Dean said, lying beside Cas. Cas rested his head on Dean's tear stained chest. "This one was just before I went to hell. 

"So we were in a car. Not the Impala, it was a convertible. There were bench seats, though so it must have been an older car. Anyway, Sam was driving- which was weird- I was in the passenger seat and you were in the back. It was almost like you were between us, though because you leaned forward with your arms on the front seat.

"We were driving through San Francisco- China Town, actually, and it was night. We were speeding through- which is probably the most unrealistic part of this. The lights streaked by, something was playing on the radio. I don't remember what and frankly I don't care.

"No one spoke, the wind was whipping through out hair... the smell of rain washed over us. It was beautiful. Everything was beautiful."

Cas smiled and looked up at Dean with weary eyes. Dean stared at the ceiling.

"I looked back and your face was right there and I felt this overwhelming need to kiss you. So I did. And that's when I woke up."

"You never told me that one," Cas murmured. Dean had never shared a dream where anything romantic happened.

"I was saving it for a bad night. Go to sleep, babe. I'll make you breakfast in the morning."

Cas closed his eyes and gathered another handful of Dean's shirt. "I love you."

"Love you too, Cas."


	22. Prayers to Cas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suuuper short.

Receiving a prayer is a bit like receiving a phone call. You can listen to it right away and respond, or you can let it go to voicemail. For most angels, this is a pointless feature. If anyone is praying to them, it must be something serious, but Castiel was extremely grateful for it.

He had immediately responded to Dean's prayers at first, but once they had 'become a thing' as Dean put it, prayers to Cas changed from an emergency service to cute 'I love you' notes and sometimes even pornographic images.

It wasn't that Cas ignored Dean's prayers, it's just that a boner or a residual smile aren't always the most appropriate things to have- one more so than the other- in some of the situations Cas found himself in.

Castiel always listened to Dean's prayers when he thought it was safe. And he always, _always_ responded.


	23. Every Moment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I'm sitting here listening to the radio thinking about how I haven't written one of these in a while and it's two in the morning and I'm starving so creativity is not at its peak. I actually decided to go to bed but then Black Water came on and I've got a serious emotional attachment to The Doobie Brothers (that's actually my favorite song of theirs but who even cares shut up Jess) my family actually knows the base player. Well, it was ending when I decided I'd write a thing inspired by the next song. And what's the next song?  
> SEPARATE  
> FUCKING  
> WAYS   
> SO... instead of writing a thing about Separate Ways (pfft been there done that) I'm writing this summary to kill time. Welcome to two in the morning me. I swear to fucking Chuck last time I looked at the clock it was ten. What even happened?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When the radio won't behave and keeps playing songs about broken hearts so you just give up on making this music-centric. I'm leaving that summary, though. It's funny (to me right now... I will probably be really embarrassed about it later).

Cas's head rested on Dean's bare chest, their hands intertwined. Cas could hear Dean's heart beating, he could feel Dean's breathing, he could even hear the blood rushing through his body. He could hear something else, he could hear the radio. Dean had found a classic rock station and Cas didn't think he'd put the radio on any other station since. That was okay with Cas. Really, anything that made Dean happy was okay with Cas. Of course, Cas was often what made Dean happy.  
"I have to go," Cas mumbled softly. He'd wasted as much time as he possibly could've lying there with Dean, but there were still things he needed to attend to.  
Dean sighed, "I know," he whispered. "You always have to go."  
Cas sat up, "Dean, I'm sorry. I spend every moment I can with you, you know that."  
Dean licked his lips, also sitting up. "I know. That's not what I meant. I mean- I guess it is. It's just never enough, you know? You give me every moment you can, but I want every moment you have. It's selfish, I know, but I love you so much I just-"  
Cas stopped Dean with a kiss. "I know, Dean." Cas turned and stepped off the bed, immediately starting the search for his pants.   
"Will there ever be a time when you don't have to go?" Dean asked hopefully. "Will you ever... I don't know, retire or something?" he watched Cas walk around his room, pulling the sheet on his bed up to cover his groinn.  
"I don't know," Cas admitted. "I hope so. I really do. But you'll still be a hunter."  
Dean shook his head. "No. I'll stop," he said. "I'll stop for you. I'll always stop for you. We'll get a real house and deal with problems every other couple deals with and we'll be just like every other couple except you're a fucking angel and we'll have salt lining the entrances."  
Cas stopped moving with his back to Dean. "And you'll die."  
"What?"  
"You'll get old and die and then it will just be me." Cas shrugged into his white button up shirt. He turned back around when Dean didn't respond. "Sorry. I didn't mean to kill the mood."  
Dean shook his head, "S'okay."  
Cas walked back up to the bed and kissed Dean again. "I'll see you soon. Probably tonight."   
"Okay," Dean said softly. Cas walked out the door to Dean's room, leaving him naked, exposed and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just remembered Separate Ways is my favorite song and it was on the radio and I wasted the time I could've been being excited and dancing because I'm alone in my room being pissed at it for its timing. Well.


	24. Every Romance Movie Ever

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Kissing in the rain. Not very original.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Separate Ways is playing. Why is Separate Ways always playing?

Dean pulled into his normal spot in front of the door to the bunker blindly. It was poring so hard his windshield wipers were doing nothing. He'd passed about a hundred drivers pulled over on the highway trying to wait the storm out but not him. Dean, reckless as he was, really, really needed to get home. Not only did he miss Cas terribly, but Sam was gone. The sky could fall right on the roof of his car and it wasn't going to keep him from a night with Cas _without_ a certain moose hammering on their door yelling, to quiet down.

Dean put the Impala in park and looked out the window. He was only about ten feet from the bunker's door. If he ran he could probably get there in less than- holy fuck was that Cas?

Cas stood outside the bunker's door, underneath the small awning but still getting soaked. He was glaring at the Impala. Dean opened the door and stepped out, closing it quickly to keep water from getting on those precious seats.

"Cas what the hell are you doing?" Dean yelled over the thunder and rain. He began walking around the Impala, but was intercepted by a drenched angel running full force into him. "Your're fuckin' soaked!" Dean said, squeezing the shivering creature.

Cas pushed away from Dean- who was getting fairly soaked himself. "You're late!" he accused. "You said 7:30-"

"It's what? 7:32?" Dean teased.

"9:00," Cas corrected. "I was worried. You could have called-"

Dean silenced Cas by putting a finger to the angel's lips. "I'm sorry. The roads were awful. I'll make it up to you but not out here-"

Cas pushed past Dean's hand and, taking both sides of his face, kissed him.

"Stop, stop," Dean said, pushing Cas away. "God Cas, we look like the cover of every romance movie ever. Kissing in the rain? This is the mother of all violations of the 'no chick flick moments' rule."

Cas smiled.

"We need to get out of this rain. You're going to need to change. Or just strip. Either one works for me-"

"You're a douche," Cas said, causing Dean to laugh. He took Dean's hand and led him inside the bunker. Sam was going to be seriously pissed about the mud and water being tracked in. But they'd think about that later. Neither really wanted the other thinking about Sam for the next few hours. 


	25. Djinn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Isn't it embarrassing when you mess up on something you're supposed to do really well... for the second time? And then, when you end up in a world (in your mind of course) where your greatest wishes have come true while you're drained of blood. Leave it to Dean.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *somewhat sexy lopsided grin I could never pull off in real life*  
> I'm back ; )

Dean didn't even have time to move out of the way once he caught sight of the glowing blue hand. Dean began to curse himself for doing such a crap job on this simple case, but the Djinn's drug hit him so fast, before he knew it, he was sitting up in bed in a dark, slightly familiar room. He was wearing a t-shirt and boxers.

He didn't even notice who was lying next to him, he just got up out of bed and walked out the bedroom door. It was the same house as the one he'd lived in last time he was attacked by this kind of djinn, eight years ago. Dean was surprised he remembered it, really, but he wasn't going to be staying there for long. He needed to wake up. He needed to find a knife. He walked into the kitchen and started opening drawers when he heard someone approach the hallway leading to the bedroom.

"Hello Carm-" Dean started, but he looked up and instead of a beautiful woman from a beer ad he'd been living with last time, he saw his best friend wearing only a pair of boxer briefs. "Cas?" he breathed.

"Who's Carmen?" Cas asked, leaning against the wall.

"Some chick from an ad..." Dean trailed off.

Cas furrowed his brow. "What are you doing up? Have you bee drinking, Dean? You promised me-"

"No!" Dean assured him, walking out of the kitchen and towards Cas. "I swear I- I haven't I just... can't sleep. Nightmares," it wasn't entirely a lie. Djinn aren't exactly rainbows and kitty cats.

Cas's face softened and he closed the distance between them. He wrapped his arms around Dean's neck and buried his face in the shoulder of Dean's shirt. "I'm so sorry Dean," he mumbled. "I knew they hadn't stopped," he pulled away a little. "Ever since you stopped hunting," he shook his head. "Was it the same? The people you can't save."

Dean's lips parted a little. In the dream the Djinn had put him in, he had nightmares? He'd been a hunter? There were more differences than the company. "I don't really want to..." he said, staring into Cas's eyes. It was incredible how the Djinn's drug- venom- whatever it was could access his deepest, darkest secrets and find what he truly wanted.

Cas sighed and pulled Dean close again. Dean closed his eyes and inhaled Cas's scent. He wanted to savor this, he didn't care it was simply in his mind.

"Cas?" he asked. "It's going to sound like kind of a stupid question but... is Sammy okay?"

"Yeah," Cas said, looking at Dean again, but his arms were around his waist, as if they were dancing. "More than okay. Jess had her baby, remember?"

Dean smiled and tried to hold back his tears, "Yeah," he nodded. "I remember."

"What's wrong?" Cas asked, concern flooding his voice. "You're crying, Dean, what's wrong?"

Dean shook his head. "I love you so much, Cas," he said, and it was true. He'd wanted to say it for so long and he didn't care that this Cas was in his head, it felt good to say it. "I love you more than anything," he leaned down and his lips brushed against Cas's... just to see how it would feel, and it felt good. So he did it again, and left them there a little longer this time. He had to stop, though. He had to leave. He had to wake up. "I have to go," he whispered, his forehead against Cas's.

"You're right," Cas mumbled.

Dean furrowed his brow and pulled away from Cas.

"You have time before the Djinn drains you of blood, but the longer you stay, the less likely you are to leave," there were tears in Cas's eyes now too.

Dean shook his head, "Aren't you supposed to convince me to stay? Aren't you supposed to work in the Djinn's favor and tell me about how much better it will be here than it is out there?"

Cas blinked back his tears and took a deep breath. "You know all that. I just want what's best for you. I want you to be safe, to survive." Cas produced and angel blade from thin air. "I need you to survive and... love the real me," he extended the blade towards Dean.

Dean took it. Assoon as he closed his grip on the hilt, his hand started to shake. He gripped the blade tighter, but kept shaking. Finally, he dropped the blade. It his the carpet almost silently. "I can't," Dean whispered. "Out there... you don't love me back."

Cas shook his head, no longer trying to hold the tears back, "This is suicide, Dean. If you stay with me you will die!"

Dean licked his lips. He nodded. "I know," he pulled Cas into another tight hug before leading him back into the bedroom. "I'm willing to die to be with you. I've always been willing to die for you."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My original plan for this was to have Dean mess up on the hunt because he was off his game from a breakup with Cas, but I liked this better.


	26. And There Goes the Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What can I say? I had inspiration and it involved hot women. How could I resist?

Castiel walkeup to the arena's gate, notepad in hand. She smiled when she saw her prey, Deana on her large black steed. Cas wouldn't get it wrong this time. She had Deana Winchester's story, straight form the source within her grasp. She wouldn't allow the perfect article to slip through her fingers, not again.

Cas held her breath as the horse approached a jump the seemed to be almost as tall as it was. She watched as Deana leaned forward and held onto some of that silky black mane, allowing the horse some slack in the rain. She watched the horse rock back, almost without breaking stride, and lift its front end over the massive X, and released the air from her lungs when the horse cantered away from the jump, X and horse intact.

Cas wan't a horse person, it was a little silly for her to take this story, but she'd always had this obsession with Deana Winchester. The woman had risen from nothing into one of the most successful ranch owner in history. She and her sister owned a stable. They raised race horses, jumping horses, even cutting horses. Thoroughbreds to Quarter Horses, the Winchesters had everything, and no one knew how they'd gotten it.

Lost in her daydreams, Cas hadn't noticed Deana dismount and start approaching the gate, approaching her. A boy, no more than sixteen, somehow appeared behind Cas.

"Take your horse, ma'am?" he asked.

Deana raised her eyebrows, still walking towards the gate. "This particular horse has a name," she was to the gate now, only a foot and a fence away from Cas. Deana's attention was focused on her horse. The one with the name. She was stroking it's face. "Her name is Impala," she murmured.

"Impala? Isn't that... like a type of gazelle?" Cas blurted without thinking. Deana's eye flickered up to meet Cas's. Her green eyes seemed to pierce Cas's soul.

"Yes, it is," Deana said. "Also a type of car. I think they looked particularly good in the sixties. Who's our guest?"

"Castiel Novak," Cas replied though Deana had been addressing the boy. "I'm with-"

"Some sort of newspaper no doubt, and you want my story. A story I've never given to anyone else but you- you think you're special. You think you've got that little tick that allows you to crack people. You think you're not leaving this property without what you want," Deana opened the gate and handed the rains to the boy who walked off towards the barn with the horse. "I know the type," she finished as she closed the gate behind her.

Cas raised an eyebrow. She looked at Deana up close for the first time. The English britches clung to her muscular legs precisely, the half chaps were tight around her calves. Her hips curved perfectly and the crisp white button down shirt tucked into the high waisted britches complemented them. Her sandy brown hair was up in a tight bun, as it always seemed to be in pictures Cas had seen of her. Deana wore no makeup and that was fine. Her freckles popped out from her slightly tan skin.

Deana seemed to be studying Cas, too. "Maybe you are special," she murmured. "We'll have to see. I would introduce myself but you obviously know who I am. Follow me," Deana turned and began walking towards the barn, after her henchman. Cas almost had to jog to keep up with her brisk stride.

"I'll start with the basics," Deana said as she walked. "My mother's name was Mary Winchester, my father's was John," she stopped walking although they were only a few feet from the open entrance to the barn. "You ever heard of either of them?"

Cas shook her head and opened her notepad but almost blushed as she realized what she was missing. "I regret to say I haven't. Would you happen to have a pen?"

Deana turned around and started walking again, "That's because they were ordinary people," she walked into the barn, Cas followed. It was an older looking wooden barn, only one of many on the estate. The floor was, surprisingly dirt. There was a wash rack across from a tack room at the very front, and behind that there were stalls on opposite each other down the length of the barn. Deana turned into the tack room, Cas remained in the doorway. "Both dead now."

"I'm sorry for your loss," Cas said as Deana disappeared behind shelves full of boxes with names on them. She emerged with a pen. "Thank you." The room was relatively small, the shelves were on the right side of a person looking in, right by the doorway. There was a large chest, probably full of clothes a few feet away from the door. The back wall housed probably fifteen saddles, English and Western. There was a counter and a sink opposite of the chest, but some of that was blocked from Cas's vision from the shelves. The room had a stone floor and was about ten degrees cooler than the hot summer air outside even though the door had been open.

"We don't have any more family," Deana said, sitting on the chest. "Any money me and Sam have... we earned it. You understand? Take that down."

Cas nodded and her handwriting became almost illegible as she tried to get everything she'd learned so far on paper. Deana began unzipping her half chaps, quickly followed by taking them off, but not her boots.

"And um-" Cas began but looked up to see Deana unbuttoning her short sleeved white button down shirt and lost her train of thought. Maybe she had something on underneath- oh no just a bra. "I'm sorry... am I- am I intruding?" Cas stammered, meaning to look away but unable to take her eyes off the flawless golden flesh, the color was perfectly even, not a tan line in sight.

"Not at all," Deana said, shrugging out of the shirt. One of her hands was behind her head, and when it was pulled away her hair fell, cascading around her shoulders in perfect waves, hiding the black bra strap but not the black lace of her bra.

"I've... forgotten what I was going to ask," Cas said as Deana approached her, still shirtless. The shirt had prohibited Cas from seeing the smooth curve of Deana's waist. She followed it up- eyes flickering away from the more sensitive areas- to Deana's face. She wore a cocky smirk and Cas realized how hot her own face was. Attractive woman didn't usually just take their shirts off in front of her, blushing did seem like an appropriate response, but Deana seemed to find it very funny.

Cas pulled her trench coat- hot as it was- over her own body modestly and crossed her arms. She avoided the piercing green eyes that seemed to be locked on her face and studied  the ground. "You might want... to put something on," she whispered, afraid her voice wouldn't work right. "I mean... people could see... you."

Deana shrugged, "Really not that modest."

Cas glanced up only to see Deana turn around. Her back was so smooth, looked so soft. Cas suddenly wanted to reach out and touch it, stroke it, but Deana was walking away. She turned, about to disappear behind the shelves again, but stopped to smirk at Cas again. Cas let out a breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding as soon as Deana disappeared.

"That question comin' back to you?" Dean asked from the other side of the shelves.

"No, not yet," Cas said with a sigh. She stared down at her notebook and the complete lack of valuable information on it. She was about to outstay her welcome and she knew it. She ran a hand through her short black hair. She heard clothing rustling and figured Deana must be changing. She was probably going somewhere after her morning ride, that left Cas with only a few more minutes of her precious time.

"Maybe you'll remember over dinner tonight," Deana said, rounding the corner again, this time wearing slim dark blue jeans and a black tank top.

"What?" Cas demanded.

"Dinner. With me. Somewhere nice. You can ask me all those question you've got written down on the next page in your little book over dinner."

Cas looked down at her notebook and turned the page. Deana was, of course, right, and she'd written down all of her questions beforehand, the way she always did. "Shit," she whispered. As she was staring angrily at her list of particularly good questions, Deana reached out and took the notepad from her, flipping to a blank page. Deana raised an eyebrow and reached out again, this time to take the pen in Cas's right hand which was resting at her side now. For this, Deana had to step in closer to Cas. Her shockingly cool fingers deliberately brushed over Cas's hand. The action caused Cas's heart rate to skyrocket and she found herself holding her breath again. The whole thing was over in a second and Deana was back in her own space, scribbling something down in Cas's notepad.

"This is the address of a nice little place I've grown love," Deana said, handing Cas back her notepad. "I'm paying of course."

Cas stared at the notepad, deciphering the somewhat sloppy handwriting. "And... your phone number?" she asked, looking back up.

"In case you get lost," Deana winked. "I do have somewhere to be, though. So I'll see you there at... say seven?"

"Sounds good," Cas said, smiling at Deana. "I'll... actually ask some questions."

"Though not the kind I'd like you to, I'm sure," Deana said, returning the smile. She walked past Cas and out into the barn but turned back towards her before getting in the car that had appeared in front of the barn while they had been in the tack room. "Don't... wear the pantsuit," she said, gesturing to Cas's outfit.

Cas laughed, "Alright," she said softly. She was sure Deana didn't hear, she was already too far away. Castiel watched her get in the driver's seat of the cherry red sports car and smiled as the engine roared. She only startedwalking towards her own car after the sound of the engine faded as Deana drove away. Then, she took a deep breath and almost trotted to her Subaru.

"Oh God," Cas whispered when she got inside. She clutched the notepad to her chest and steadied her breathing. "She asked me out," she breathed. And she'd thought she was getting the perfect article before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It turns out riding a horse for several hours with an unwrapped, broken (but only a little) wrist not only hurts WHILE you're doing it, but makes the whole situation worse :)  
> This has been free advice from someone so tired of babying her wrist she forgot to give a shit.


	27. Photograph

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There simply aren't enough boxes for all the random things I have to say!  
> I started this last night but actually ended up trying to save a horse's life until the wee (and less wee) hours of the morning. I do some pretty random shit with my life.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Me: *sits down to write*  
> Radio: *plays Carry on My Wayward Son*  
> Me: *gets up to dance*  
> Me: *sits back down to write*  
> Computer: *shows me a picture of my schedule for the next two months*  
> Me: *sighs and starts writing it on my calendar*   
> Me: *thinks about how little I'll be able to write after tonight*  
> Me: *cries*  
> Me: *finally fucking writes*

Cas woke up to an empty bed. He seemed to be doing that a lot lately. He glanced to the side at his bedside table, at the framed photo of him and Dean. He smiled as he stared at the photograph. It was one of the only pictures of Castiel in the universe. Certainly the only one he's smiling in. Jimmy Novak, his current vessel, was his first vessel for almost a century, and Dean was the only one who seemed interested in getting pictures of him now.

In the photo, Dean's face was smushed up against Cas's cheek. Cas was smiling wider than he anyone had seen him smile. He was a little embarrassed Dean was being so affectionate in public. When Cas thought about it, he remembered he'd been laughing.

They were standing in front of the ocean, the sunset behind them turned the ocean and sky all sorts of pinks, oranges and reds. Dean had taken this photo, his outstretched arm was visible. So was the smile on his face.

This was Cas's favorite photo in all of creation. This was a photo of the happiest time of Castiel's existence, possibly the happiest moment. He was an angel but nothing was wrong with the world, and even if something was, he'd had Dean. Dean always made everything okay.

Now he was human, grace stolen again. The world had managed to break itself again, and as a result Dean drifted further from Cas's grasp every day. He woke up early and came to bed late. There was almost no time for Cas anymore, and whenever he tried to help, Dean shoved him away in a corner with a few sweet words. Cas knew he all Dean wanted was to keep Cas safe, but he was beginning to feel useless, and he hadn't really felt loved for a long time.

Cas realized he was crying and wiped the silly tears off his face. He still had Dean, really. The hunter would come back to him the moment he caught a break. Cas tore his gaze away from the blissful photo and sat up in bed just as the door to the room he shared with Dean opened.

Cas began to pull the sheets up to hide his bare chest, but dropped them when he saw who it was. "Dean," he said, stretching out his arms.

Dean approached and took Cas's hands. Then, he sat on the edge of the bed, by Cas's covered thighs. He still had Cas's hands. "Sammy left this morning," he said quietly.

Cas furrowed his brow, "What?"

"On a hunt. He thinks he found a case. Something related to... something interesting," he stared at his and Cas's hands in his lap. "I figured he could handle it on his own."

"You didn't... go with him?" Dean had left Cas alone in the bunker many times, for many nights, to go on hunts with Sam. He almost never let Sam go out by himself.

Dean looked up at Cas. "Well, I thought I'd been too much time working and not enough time... you know, with you. I'm sorry about that. I'm sorry I've been so distant. I'm just so stressed."

Cas nodded. "I understand." And he did. He understood perfectly well, he just wished it were different.

Dean brought one of Cas's hands up to his face so the back of it was touching his cheek. Cas smiled sadly at how warm Dean was. He was always warm. Dean slowly dropped his hand away from Cas's but Cas's hand remained. Cas turned his hand over so he was cupping Dean's cheek. Dean leaned into the action and squeezed his eyes shut. Cas could tell he was trying not to cry, but he didn't know why.

"I miss you," Dean whispered.

Cas pulled both his hands away from Dean just to lean forward a little and wrap his arms around the hunter. "I miss you too," he whispered back. "And I love you. So much."

Dean buried his face in Cas's neck, "I love you too, babe."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So my schedule is pretty much jam packed from 6:30 AM to 10:00 PM every day except most Fridays, Saturdays and Sundays for at least the next two months starting tomorrow (I'm assistant stage managing a play and SHOULD BE assistant directing another shortly after. Yeah I'm everyone's assistant) so while I still should be writing some... don't expect much from me. I will still try my best to post often, I don't want to lose any of you!


	28. Clothing (audience: BOOOO)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> MMMMM smells like repressed romantic feelings. 
> 
> YES OKAY CHARLIE AND KEVIN ARE ALIVE AND IT'S NOT EVEN THAT RELEVANT I just wanted to be happy okay???

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... here I am. Posting. Wow I feel like it's been about a year since I did any writing. Well, I'm taking a class that should be improving my writing so let me know if you see any changes XD

Emotions and physical feelings... it was all new. Cas would attempt to walk outside in three layers in the middle of August, and in nothing but a pair of jeans and a t-shirt in a snow storm. It was odd to go from wearing one outfit for six years to changing every day. Cas often forgot. The first day, he walked out into the bunker's library in nothing but his underwear. Dean quickly caught him and rushed him back into his room to put something on before Sam, Kevin or Charlie saw, but it had been mortifying, and he'd learned that day to make sure he was wearing something.

Wearing something... that was the easy part. What to wear- that was a bit more difficult. Dean'd had Charlie take him shopping within his first week of being human. Unable to make decisions for himself, Cas had ended up with a closet full of t-shirts with references he didn't understand and a lot of plaid (Charlie had said he simply wouldn't fit in around the bunker without plaid). Of course, he still had his old trench coat, suit and tie, but they mostly hung ignored in the dusty corner.

Cas could look at his closet for hours and still not know what to wear. What was appropriate for the outing? What was appropriate for the weather? What was comfortable? Who would try to talk to him about Led Zeppelin- which he knew nothing about? Generally, he went with Charlie's advice and just wore a plaid flannel over a plain t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. This worked out great throughout August and September, but into October, he started to see the flaw. He was getting cold.

One particular day, while leaning against the Impala waiting for Sam and their dinner outside a local burger place, Cas started to shiver for the first time.

Dean looked over and caught him rubbing his arms in an attempt to warm up. "You alright there partner?" he asked. He himself was wearing a jacket over his flannel and t-shirt.

Cas looked up at Dean. "Fine. Just... a bit cold."

Dean chuckled and looked straight ahead again. "It's a bit nippy," he said. "Didn't we get you some sort of jacket or somethin'?"

Cas nodded, "Yes but I didn't think to..."

Dean looked over again as Cas crossed his arms tightly across his chest and bowed his head. The corners of Dean's lips twitched up and he began to shrug out of his jacket. Cas didn't even notice until Dean wrapped it around his shoulders.

Finally, Cas looked up at Dean, "What are you doing?"

Dean shrugged and began buttoning up his olive green flannel. "Warmer?"

Cas began to smile a little- another thing he had yet to master. "Yeah," he said softly. "Thanks." Cas pulled Dean's jacket tighter around his body like a blanket, his arms weren't through the sleeves.

Dean watched him fondly. He caught Cas take a deep, content breath. He knew that breath. Cas was inhaling Dean's scent off the jacket. Dean had done it before too... every time he hugged Cas. There was something about the way the former angel smelled that felt like home... it felt safe. Cas seemed to feel something similar, because he buried his face in Dean's jacket- not even trying to be subtle.   
Dean broke into a grin then, and he wrapped his arm around Cas's shoulders as well. Cas leaned in towards Dean's body, and soon Dean had both his arms around Cas. Cas's eyes were closed and he hummed happily.

"Much warmer," he said, voice muffled by Dean.

"I agree," Dean said.

Cas closed his eyes and inhaled Dean straight from the source. Neither of them noticed when Sam arrived, but after some thorough teasing, they all hoped in the Impala and waited eagerly for the cab to warm up, excited to get home to the heated bunker and their other friends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Funny story: I have a friend (gasp) and we're always super sexual with each other (although there's surprisingly nothing going on...) and today she walked up to me and randomly kissed me on the cheek with this bright red lipstick which- of course- ended up on my cheek and the shit just wouldn't come off so I ended up walking around looking like I'd been kissed by a pinup girl.  
> We also made a pansexual so uncomfortable they actually said "wow it just got really gay over here" and I'm a little proud.   
> Anyway, a lot's happening in my life I must tell someone.   
> Tell me what's up in the comments! I want to get to know y'all a little! Or don't if you hate this sort of thing. Then just get over it XD


	29. Lay Your Weary Head to Rest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I'd love to share some long, funny story about why I haven't been posting lately... but the truth is, I sleep in all my spare time.  
> 

Cas stood outside the door to that dreaded hospital room. He'd come here so many times, usually more than once in a day. The nurses all knew his name, they thought he was coming to see his dad. One of them was working up the courage to ask him out. Or hoping he'd do it. He wouldn't, though, because it wasn't his father he came to see every day, it was the love of his life. And he was watching him die.

Not at the moment, though. At the moment he was sleeping. Blissful and painless, when Dean slept and his face was relaxed, Cas could clearly see the young man he'd been when they met. It made him tear up. Cas could have stopped Dean from aging. He could have kept the illnesses away if his grace hadn't been stolen all those years ago. He had it back now, or at least most of it. Enough to keep him from aging... but not enough for him to survive preforming a miracle that would save Dean's life. Not that that would have stopped him- Dean refused to let Cas preform any sort of miracle.

"I've already lost Sam," he'd say, "I've lost my dad, Bobby, I've lost Ellen and I've lost Jo. I can't lose you. I wouldn't survive it."

So Cas watched helplessly. Watched as Dean grew old, watched as he fell ill, watched as he was moved to the hospital... and now he was watching him die. Dean's eyelids flickered open. Even that simple action appeared weak.

"The hell are you doin' all the way over there?" Dean mumbled. Everything he said was mumbled now. Almost as if he couldn't find the energy to really speak.

Cas smiled and walked to the chair beside Dean's bed. He sat and took the old man's hand.

"You gonna take me home?" Dean asked, leaning towards Cas and whispering. "We gonna sneak outa this place and get back to that damn bunker? Do some... some huntin'?" he asked, smiling. Dean leaned back in his bed so his back was being supported  
Cas blinked back tears, avoiding Dean's eye.

He brought Dean's hand in both of his up to his lips and kissed it. "You know I can't," he said, voice cracking.

"Don't cry," Dean warned. "Don't you dare cry you sentimental son of a bitch."

"I can't..." Cas started, dropping Dean's hand to wipe tears off his face. "I can't want to do this without you, Dean."

"Do what?" Dean asked, though they'd had this conversation before.

"Any of it," Cas said like he always did.

Dean leaned forward again and took both of Cas's sturdy hands with his shaky ones. Cas was like an anchor. Without him, Dean felt like he was going floating helplessly, about to fall over the edge, but with Cas he had some control. He had something keeping him on Earth... keeping him alive. "You went for so long without me, Cas-"

"Before I knew what I could have!" Cas cried, interrupting Dean.

"And can have again," Dean said with as much strength as he had. "Find someone else-"

"I don't want anyone else," Cas whispered. "I want you. I want to make you young again and love you every night and kiss you without getting weird looks from-"

"Don't," Dean said definitively. "Just don't. It would kill you... and that would kill me."

"You're going to die-"

"I'm not going to die!" Dean said with what may have once been ferocity. He breathed deep and his features softened. "Did you find out? Where I'm going?"

Cas clenched his jaw and brushed his hand over a cut on his cheekbone. "I did," he said solemnly. "I tried to change their minds, Dean, but they don't even want _me_  in Heaven now..."

Dean sighed. "So I'm on the Highway to Hell. Well, now I'm definitely not gonna die," he joked, but his smile never made it to his eyes.

"Any chance you can... take a road trip downstairs and scare the demons off every once in a while?"

Cas tried to smile, but he couldn't do it. He couldn't lie, not to Dean. He tired to force the corners of his lips up, but all he did was tear up. This time, he didn't even try to hold back. "I love you," he said, avoiding Dean's eyes for a few seconds, but looking back into them when he realized how little time he had to do that.

Dean leaned forwards and Cas did the same, knowing Dean wouldn't be able to close the distance alone. Cas brought his hands to the sides of Dean's face, but only made contact with his lips for a fraction of a second. Their foreheads remained touching as Cas shook with fear, sorrow and love. He ran a hand through Dean's silver hair and the contact only ceased when Dean collapsed back on his bed.

"I'm going to find another angel," Cas said softly.

"What?"

"I'm going to find another angel... they'll fix you."

Dean shook his head and grabbed Cas's hand again. "No. I'm not broken, Cas. I'm just old."

Cas shook his head. "You'll die, Dean!" he said with more forced than he'd used with Dean in years.

Dean took a deep breath and he looked like he was tearing up.

"What?" Cas asked.

Dean tilted his head and blinked the tears out of his faded eyes. "You sound just like Sam."


	30. The Monkey's Paw

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm so bad at this how the fuck has it gone on for thirty chapters? Fluff my very fine ass.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ASM: Assistant Stage Manager  
> Beats are a way of breaking down a script some directors choose to use.... they're usually one to three pages of the script.  
> One would 'call for a line' if they didn't know what to say next (you probably know that)  
> Tech rehearsal and full run through both seem fairly self-explanatory.  
> All quotes from the scene being acted out are from "The Monkey's Paw" by W.W. Jacobs blah blah blah it is set in England, late 1800's-early 1900's. It is described as a 'supernatural short story' so I thought it was appropriate.

As Assistant Stage Manager, Cas was supposed to be watching the script. He was supposed to be on book... waiting, in case someone called for a line, but he wasn't even on the right page. For almost an entire scene, Cas had been watching Dean Winchester in awe. The words flowed from him flawlessly and he maintained that little smirk throughout. It worked perfectly for his character, but Cas, even after only seeing Dean outside of rehearsal twice, knew that he carried that smirk wherever he went.

"Joke!" Dean's voice, rich with a faux British accent, rang through the theater. "And me with the sack!" Cas smiled as he watched Dean work. "Pretty idea of a joke you've got, I don't think."

A few times, Cas had caught Dean's eye, but he knew it was only because he was sitting in one of the front rows of the audience. Dean was practicing catching the eyes of audience members, but Cas seemed to be seeing those emerald green eyes more and more often. Cas listened to the dialog for a fraction of a second, and turned flipped through the script until he was on the right page. He made a point of doing this every few minutes... just so he was never too far off in case someone did call for a line.

"Oh! 'Tisn't for want of being sociable," Dean started, walking away from the man playing Mr. White- his father- and around the man playing Sargent-Major Morris, a prefect parallel to the blocking notes on Cas's script- though still not the page it was turned to. "But my work don't go with it. Not if 'twas ever so little," and those eyes were on him again... Dean was looking at Cas. Cas avoided eye contact and glanced at the director who was, of course, nodding with approval. "I've got to keep a cool head, a steady eye, and a still hand." Cas looked back at the stage, expecting Dean's gaze to have moved on, but it hasn't. "The fly-wheel might gobble me up," Dean said cautiously. He winked at Cas.

They both knew, of course, that later on in the story, Herbert- Dean's character- would, in fact, be crushed to death by the 'fly-wheel'.

"Don't, Herbert!" cried the actress playing Herbert's mother.

Dean laughed. He was supposed to be assuring his mother, but he kept staring out at the audience. At Cas. "No fear, mother."

"Beat!" the director yelled and the four people on stage simultaneously fell out of character. "Take five!" They all seemed to relax, like the could finally breath again, but not Dean. Dean just settled back into Dean Winchester, leaving Herbert White behind on stage as he trotted up the stairs to the row Cas was sitting in.

"Uh- Dean?" the director began. "Remember to look at Kathy when you give that line. You're a little shit, you aren't telling the future."

"Of course," it was almost weird to hear Dean speak without his nearly flawless British accent. Sometimes, especially compared to his fellow actors, Cas actually forgot he was American. He looked at Cas. "Hey."

"Hi," Cas said weakly. Dean had never said much more than 'Line?' to Cas.

Dean plopped down in the chair next to him. "Cas right?" Cas nodded. "You're the... Stage manager?"

Cas shook his head. "ASM. But John's never here so... basically, yeah."

Dean nodded. "I hate the stage managers who think they only need to show up for full run throughs and tech."

"Yeah," Cas mumbled.

"I mean beat work and running through scenes like this is just as important as any tech rehearsal."

Cas smiled a little, but stared at his script. He hadn't looked at Dean since he'd sat down. "Well, I guess that's what I'm here for."

"Fair enough," Dean said. He turned to Cas, making the latter look up to avoid awkwardness. "Hey, I was wondering if we could hang out and... you know, you could help me with my lines or something. Outside of rehearsal, I mean."

Cas raised an eyebrow. "You seem to know your lines fairly well," he pointed out.

Dean shrugged. "Just... hang out then?" he offered. "I mean, you've heard the director go on about how the day rehearsals start we're all one big family and-"

"What, you want to get to know your family?" Cas said jokingly.

Dean thought for a second. "Well, I'd like to get to know you."

Cas smiled at Dean, he was about to say how much he'd wanted to get to know him since his audition, but the director cut him off.

"One minute people!"

"Thank you one minute," various people around the theater said, including Dean.

Cas glanced at the director. "I don't get why we do that," he started. "It's not like this is a show-" he stopped when he looked to the side, and the chair next to him was empty.

"We all here?" the director asked in his booming voice. "Okay from the beginning of Beat 4. Go!"

Cas looked at up at the stage and Dean was there, with the other three actors. Sargent Major Morris was describing something in his gruff tone and...

"Your Indian magic?" Dean's voice, clear and accurate as it always was when he was on stage, "All a fake, governor. The fakir's fake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I apologize for all fuck ups... I don't have time to go through this and I want to get it posted.


	31. I'm Gay You Idiot!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> On a dare? Sure why not? This is very random.  
> I know, Kevin and Gabriel is kinda an odd combo but it's kinda hard to find male characters I like for the age range that aren't Dean Sam or Cas.  
> *uses kinda twice because why not*  
> Gabriel and Kevin have to turn their backs to the instructor to face Dean and Cas. They are sitting at tables that seat four (there are six in the room but we only care about the two) Gabriel and Kevin are at a different table than Dean and Cas.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the complete lack of new chapter...

"How did _she_ get a boyfriend," Dean demanded. "I can't even get a boyfriend."

Kevin, who Dean was speaking to, laughed but Gabriel just scoffed. "Well I think I can tell you why."

"What?" Dean asked, leaning back in his chair but still looking at the two turned around at the table in front of him. "There's plenty gay guys here."

"Yeah but I happen to know you're not one of them," Gabriel said with a laugh.

"Can you be quiet for half a second?" roared Mr. Singer. "If I have to have you idjits in my class next year because you were too busy chatting about how gay you are to pass I'll put a gun in my mouth."

That got the boys laughing. Even diligent little Castiel with his nose to his classwork.

"You don't know shit, Gabriel," Dean said as the grouchy teacher got back to his lecture.

"Oh come on, you hit on girls _all the time._ "

"He has a point," Kevin pitched in. Cas nodded, though no one was paying attention.

Dean scoffed. "Please. I hit on everyone! No matter what. C'mon Kevin," he laughed. "You know me, you know-"

Kevin shrugged. "I don't know, Dean," he mocked. "I haven't seen you hit on a guy in, like... forever."

Dean threw his hands up but almost hit Cas, "Sorry," he said softly. "Come on, Kevin, I hit on _you_."

"Yeah, but you hit on everyone," Kevin countered. "I don't think you're _actually_ gay. I don't even think you're bi, Dean. I think you are as straight as an arrow."

"What?" Dean demanded. "Don't be stupid!"

A smile danced at Cas's lips. He always overheard interesting conversations in this class. Sitting near Dean Winchester always ensured entertaining eavesdropping.

Suddenly, as if by some sort of silent agreement, both Kevin and Gabriel leaned forward. Dean did the same, sensing something secretive was coming. "Prove it," Kevin said quietly.

"How?" Dean asked.

"Kiss Castiel," Gabriel said dangerously.

"What?" Dean demanded, eyes getting wide, cheeks turning red.

"Oh my God he's blushing," Kevin whispered, drawing a laugh from Gabriel.

"Do it!" Gabriel encouraged, glancing at Cas who was watching the teacher, completely oblivious. "I mean, you're gay, right?"

"That's not-" Dean started, blush deepening. "This is ridiculous, I would be capable of kissing Cas even if I wasn't gay. There is no way to prove-"

"He's trying to get out of it," Kevin said to Gabriel. "What do you have against kissing Cas? Isn't he _cute_ enough for you?"

"I don't have anything against kissing Cas!" Dean whispered desperately, somehow blushing even harder.

"He likes him," Gabriel said mockingly.

"No!"

"You don't want your first kiss with him to be on a dare!" Kevin said excitedly.

"Fuck you!" Dean said, leaning back in his chair and away from the secretive circle.

Gabriel shrugged dismissively. "Hey, did you see what Jo's wearing today? I'm telling you, that girl knows how hot she is."

Dean rolled his eyes and sighed, looking at the paper on his desk and pretending to actually do his classwork.

"I mean, how much cleavage can you show without someone realizing there is actually a dress code?" He acted like he was talking to Kevin, but they were both watching Dean becoming steadily more uncomfortable. "And her ass in those shorts..." Gabriel inhaled sharply through his teeth and shook his head. "Mmmm."

Dean slammed his pencil down on the table and glared at Kevin and Gabriel- who were cracking up- before turning to Castiel. Cas noticed that Dean's attention was on him and looked up from his work. He was about to ask what Dean wanted when he had Dean's hands on the sides of his face, and a fraction of a second later, he was being kissed. Cas made a small, surprised grunt, but Dean covered it with a soft moan. Both Kevin and Gabriel were laughing uncontrollably now, drawing Mr. Singer's attention to their corner of the room once again.

"Dean Winchester! Do you think you could manage to keep your _face_ to yourself just while you're in the _classroom_?"

Everyone was laughing now, and Kevin and Gabriel were turning red. Even Dean started to laugh, and that's when he had to pull away from Cas. He immediately turned towards the two tricksters, missing Cas's initial reaction- just in case it was to punch him.

"Gay enough for you?" he demanded, not even trying to keep his voice down. They were still laughing too hard to respond, so Dean turned back to Cas.

"W-what?" Cas stuttered.

Dean chuckled nervously. "So... you think you'd want to see a movie with me sometime? Or maybe... I don't know, lunch or somethin'?"

Cas opened his mouth to respond, but smiled before he could and joined the rest of the class in laughter. "Yes," he said, nodding as he laughed. "Yeah definitely."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've created an email address for this sort of thing, and if you'd like to communicate with me for any reason (you know, just to talk or if you'd like to trade writing tips, stories, if you want someone to proof read... or if you want to tell me my stuff sucks without publicly looking like an asshole- not that that makes anyone an asshole) then please shoot me an email at jessthesuperwholockian@gmail.com. I'd like to get to know any and all of you a little better... and I'm always looking for a writing buddy or someone to go over works with before they're posted (that goes both ways).


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